(Subject to rewrite)
by flyboy179
Summary: His grandfather did say that coming to the Periphery was a mistake. (Due to being displeased how the story was flowing I am doing a full rewrite under a new story, Hopefully I can do better this time around.)
1. BlackJack

His grandfather did say that coming to the Periphery was a mistake, a place of bad luck for people like them. He wasn't wrong, minor Federated Suns nobility setting up shop that close to Concordat space, small wonder when their native retainers stabbed them in the collective backs. But they should've known better than mess with a McLean, especially not William Tell McLean.

* * *

The day was burned into his memory. It wasn't foreboding, breakfast went off great being a rare day he could eat with his grandfather, father, mother and younger sister in the same room. It was his favorite; bacon, the king of breakfast meats far as he was concerned, piled high and cooked to perfection. It was a big day, after all, the last season was a living hell for him under the tutelage of the old veteran, Raju Montgomery, and it would soon come to a close Raju's contract was ending soon and Will was finally completing his MechWarrior training. Raju was a hard man during training but even during the relatively short time they've known each other Raju was second only to his grandfather in terms of respect, he could hold for someone. From the first day, he walked him through how to start a 'Mech up to a rather terrifying trip in the rumble seat of his Centurion, Raju was practically a second father to him; only he'll do proud one day. He'll go down as Raju's best pupil ever, he thought as he looked at himself in his bedroom mirror dressed in the ancestral cooling suit that he hadn't fully grown into yet the matching neural helmet on his study table. These pieces of equipment where as rare as hen's teeth these days but House McLean took good care of their holdings especially when it comes to their equipment and 'Mechs.

Chuckling to himself as he pull the overly long sleeves down and put on his gloves, confident that he'll ace his final assessment. No hand holding, no limiters on. Just him and the BJ-1 against whatever Raju cooked up in his grizzled old head. He had finally sealed up the suit when he heard a knock on his door.

"Who is it?" Will called, turning on his heel and walking over to the table his helmet laid.

"It's me brother!" came the voice of his younger sister, Wilma.

"One sec Wilma, I'm comin' out." Tucking the sleek helmet under his arm he crossed the room to the double doors that lead to the main hall of his wing of the family manor. As soon as he opens the door he was tackled by a 6 year old ball of energy his little sister locking one arm around his waist with her other clutching a plush Atlas he'd gotten made for her.

"Today's the day right?" Wilma looked up at him, big hazel eyes looking up at him. "You get to pilot Jacky?" she was practically jumping on the spot.

With a chuckle and a ruffling of her hair, he replied with cockiness only a teenager could muster.

"That's right sis, from today onward me and Jacky are gonna be the big boys on the block."

Stepping down to scoop up his sister and putting her on his shoulder.

"And yes you'll get to ride whenever you want." He said tickling her through her day dress to cut off the barrage of excited questions he heard several times over.

Wilma grabbed a handful of the deep brown hair they shared to steady herself as Will took long strides to entrance hall. Passing by a grand painting of the Blackjacks current and soon to be retired pilot. Wilhelm Mclean, their grandfather

"Grandpa looks scary with that face," Wilma commented as they passed it. It wasn't the first time she said it but as always Will humored her, she wasn't wrong either. Wilhelm Mclean had a hell of a scowl, one he wore pretty much at all times even when 50 years younger when the painting was made, the spitting image of both William and Wilma. A long narrow face gave him a look of being hard to phase giving how his eyes were he was probably staring a hole through the poor painter the family commissioned for the piece. His brown hair shaggy and pressed down from years of wearing a neural helmet. An intimidating man to be sure, and one who's shoes Will must fill to carry on the legacy, no pressure he was a McLean; he was born to pilot 'Mechs.

"You'll look pretty scary too when you become a MechWarrior too sis" Will quipped earning a whack to the head, not that it hurt much.

"Girls can't be scary! Mom said so!"

"They are when they pilot big 'Mechs" Will deadpanned, earning another whack.

"Miss Wilma do stop trying to give the young master a concussion" came the withered voice of their nanny, Clara. As they stepped into the main entrance hall in front of the grand stairway.

"He's being mean again!"

"Am not."

"Are too!"

"Will stop agitating your sister please." Will turned to look up the stairs as his mother's voice preceded her, as per usual she was overdressed for the occasion. Her light brown hair done up in a decorated bun and wearing a flowing gown.

"Mother I'm having a military assessment, not going to a house Madeira ball." He called up as he handed his sister over to Clara ruffling her short hair once more.

"No, but you'll be making news and as the face of the family I must look my best at all times, as will you when you take over as head of the family." She wagged her finger as she stepped up to him to straighten his suit collar and hair. Earning embarrassed protests from Will.

"Come now Wilhelmina, Stop babying your son. He has a big day ahead of him." came the deep voice of his grandfather cane clicking on the marble as he walked from the opposite hall flanked by Will's father Damond. Damond Stuck a much less imposing figure than the older man. A professional desk jockey from the army he nevertheless kept the family funds in black and his mother in check form her flights of fancy.

Wilhelm stepped up to Will, looking assessing his grandson as he stood there dressed in his old cooling suit and neural helmet tucked under his arm, a wry smile cracked his grim features.

"You remind me when I was your age. Bet you feel ready aren't you lad?" He asked pointing his cane in Will's face who nodded in return.

"Ready as I'll ever be Grandad."

With a slow nod, the cane whipped across his grandson's thigh who jumped in place.

"Then report to the "Mech bay on the double, Hop to!" He barked as Will snap a salute and bolted through the main doors.

Blissfully ignorant of the incoming drop ship in orbit Will made his way to the on-site mech bay, a ten-minute jog turned into a four-minute dash as his excitement got the better of him. Skidding into a sliding stop in front of the family BlackJack as she stood in Bay one. Painted in the deep greens of his family's Coat of arms it stood looking more new as a machine nearly two hundred years old had any right to look. The old girl had taken some hits in her life but she's had good pilots in her sparing her the complete rebuilds most 'Mechs her age go through at least once.

Most are perplex why anyone would be proud as BlackJacks have a rather poor reputation of being a shoddy design. Of course, these are completely unfounded myths made by supremely ignorant officials who wouldn't know a good mech even if it stepped on them. The BlackJack is a perfect light skirmisher, two class two autocannons supplemented by four medium lasers gave it plenty of long and short range firepower to deal with mechs of the same weight head on. On top of that, she was quick and had good jump jets making her one of the more agile forty five ton 'Mechs out there. A good pilot could keep slower "Mechs at range while they lay down withering AC fire and jump in to finish the job with a salvo of laser fire. Only the Federated Suns have truly come to appreciate this chassis, but then again the other Great Houses are too far up their own asses to do anything right in the first place so not capitalizing on what the BlackJack has to offer is to be expected.

"Looking sharp there kid." Grinning Will spun on his heel to face Raju Montgomery, the grizzled veteran dressed in his cooling vest. "Ready too I take?"

"Born ready Mastiff, I'm getting my pass and you owe me a birthday present since you bailed out yesterday," Will said excitement cracking his voice.

Chuckling Raju turn his back to Will making toward the lift in the opposite bay that held his Centurion.

"We'll see kid. Mount up and let's get this show on the road. Time for Hessian's grandson to strut his stuff."

Nodding Will jammed on the neural helmet and hopped on the lif to the side hatch of the Blackjacks cockpit. Popping the hatch open he swiftly slipped in the seat. Strapping in and hooking his cooling suit's intake to the 'Mech's life support systems. Pressing the right buttons and flipping the right switches to make his BlackJack's fusion engine start to come to life as the Bitching Betty intones her startup sequence.

 **REACTOR ONLINE.**

 **SENSORS ONLINE.**

 **WEAPONS ONLINE.**

 **ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL.**

He couldn't help but grin like a little kid as the information feed and hud was fed into him through his helmet and 'Mech started to become more of an extension to his body as if he gain forty five tones and sprouted giant machine guns for arms. He was practically giggling as he applies throttle to make the BlackJack stroll out of its bay and out to the parade grounds overlooking the 'Mech target field. he couldn't help but notice that there were two blips on his sensors a couple kilometers off deep into the training grounds. Raju's Centurion came on the side of him as they piloted their 'Mechs to the center of the parade field.

"So Mastiff, what do you have planned for me this time?" Will asked, bending his neck to pop out a crick that saddeningly formed.

"Something nice and straightforward on paper but as I've told you before-"

"Nothing is ever straightforward as it seems." Will intoned, completing that oft repeated lesson.

"So you have been listening. You might get through this after all then," Raju gave an amused chuckle. "I got a couple drones out in the field. They're decommissioned military with dummy fire rounds. It won't hurt your 'mech too bad but it will knock you on your ass if you let them hit. Your final assessment will be to hunt down every drone out there and come back without being knocked down. Hopefully, you can do this without messing up."

With a laugh, Will throttled the BlackJack into a jog as he headed out to the sensors blips calling out. "Seek and destroy, I'm on it Mastiff!"

Raju shook his head as he waited five minutes and throttled up after his student.

It was a solid two minutes of moving at cruising speed before he made visual contact with the first drone, an old Scorpion tank, the drone controlling it was on the slow side as it couldn't bring the turret to bear before two bursts of AC fire slam into the weak side armor of the tank knocking it out. Will brought the Blackjack into a wide turn his head on a swivel as he scanned for his other sensor contact and any possible shut down vehicles that the sensors couldn't pick up.

That first one was too easy, Will thought, Probably meant to get me cocky and lull me into a false sense of security so what's next can blindside me. Part of him was disappointed Raju set that up the other part was worried what the vet had in plan for him.

The other sensor contact soon beeped on his close-range sensors as it sped by him practically under his nose. Kicking the torso twist into high gear he tracked his prey. A Harasser hovercraft. Normally a complete nonthreat to a 'Mech that wasn't a Flea but just as annoying as one with its constant slipping and drifting. But no matter how fast they are, drones are predictable targets and for a McLean, it was small potatoes popping a hovercraft open. Only had to use one burst of a single AC.

Two down. What's next old man? Will asked himself as he recentered his torso and scanned for more threats. His caution was soon validated when a senor contact suddenly appeared right behind him in the thick brush of the forest. Not wanting to take whatever was behind him in the back he kicked on the "Mech's jump jets, leaping sideways a hundred meters while vectoring the jets to turn the BlackJack around to hose down the contact with his ACs. He was glad he chose sideways as two thunderous booms were soon followed by great plums of earth being kicked up where the 'Mech was just standing.

"A god damn Demolisher!?" Will shouted as his AC rounds, while powerful in their own right, were insufficient to take the heavy tank down with one salvo from the front.

Checking his heat gage to be sure he won't risk overheating jumping again he leaped forward to get behind the heavy tank while vectoring to face its rear, pumping two of his lasers into the rear armor of the tank. Not enough to kill it outright but enough to strip the old armor a bit. The tank's turret began to traverse to face him but he turned his torso and threw the 'Mech in reverse opposite of the traversing turret pumping as much laser fire as he could afford into the tanks hull armor.

He couldn't jump now, too hot form his lasers firing and a wrong move would lead him eating Assault class AC rounds in the face, not the healthiest diet anyone would agree. The dance continued. Will just ahead of the turning turret and its huge double barrels and the tank eating his lasers like they were flashlights.

"Just die already!" Will shouted as he fired a full salvo by mistake, his heat gage just on the threshold of overheating. The exposed bit of his face felt like they were in an oven, his brow and hair soaked in sweat. He'd pass out from heat stroke if he didn't cool down. His accidental Alpha Strike did melt a section of armor the size of his 'Mech's footpad he noticed. "Its now or never!" He yelled as he put his weight into a punting kick. The foot pad slammed into the side of the tanks weakened hull, staving the midsection as sparks flew and the internal engine ruptured and gushed out flames. The tank turret grounded to a halt and WIll yanked his foot out of the tank and went full reverse to avoid being caught up in any ammo cook-off.

Breathing heavy from the heat and the adrenaline high he sunk back into his seat easing his knuckle-white grip he had on the 'Mechs controls. "Where the hell does he find a Demolisher?" Will asked no one in particular. A deep breath in and out helped soothed his nerves some as he put the mech in a jog and got back to scanning. Troubles for "Mech warriors usually came in fours and that was only three.

"What's next? A damn Atlas?" Another blip, behind him.

"No something half that weight."

Will's stomach feels as he reflexively fired his jets vectoring around the Class ten AC caught him him yelling and crashing into the treeline. Raju's Centurion was crouched down left arm supporting the gun arms elbow to stabilize his next shot. Sending a dummy round into Will's recovering 'Mech's side almost tipping over him again.

"I've should've known you'd pull this old man!" Will yelled as he forced his 'Mech into a sprint, Sending a snapshot burst of AC fire that made Raju ditch his aiming stance and over his cockpit with his shield arm unbeknownst to Will Raju was impressed, even more impressed as each burst started to drill into his arm. Shooting low to trip Will up he found that Will had fired his jets again gaining distance while still raining AC fire.

Will kept jumping back in short bursts pulsing his ACs into the centurions center mass he knew his most of his rounds were a dummy when his retaliatory burst only had two round explode properly. Raju messed with the ammo feed for this duel. Jumping back one more times he let the BlackJack slide across the earth and spread his feet out sustained fire. Raju was outranged and in the open, a turkey shoot. Aiming high he chained fired the ACs in single shot mode peppering the head with AC fire. Raju charged forward. Shield arm deflecting most of his fire as he took long shots at Will who either side stepped them entirely with his jumps or actually had his aim thrown off by a few solid hits to the arm by the dummy rounds. He's got it.

"Stop!" Raju called. Forcing his "Mech to take a knee his shield arm slacking slightly from the abuse it took. "I've seen enough."

"And?" Will replied he was low on ammo but he was gonna pour it all into Raju if he tried anything. There was still a good 500 meter distance between them. His finger wasn't even off the trigger.

"You're still rough around the edges but you have what it takes, Congrats kid, you have my personal seal of approval, you can now call yourself a 'MechWarrior proper." Raju called out, approval ringing clear in his tone.

Despite himself Will couldn't but offer a hoot of excitement and making his BlackJack do a 'Mech sized Can-Can dance while firing off what most of what remained of his ammo in the air. Though said celebration was soon cut off as an AC 10 round knocked the grounded leg out from under him sending him face first to the ground. Fortunately the seatbelts in the BlackJack were the best money could buy

"How many times have i told to now let your guard down pup!" Raju admonished. He could understand excitement but that sort of display gets people killed after all.

"Ow~ sorry Mastiff, Rule number one: head on a swivel at all times." Will replied pitifully as he forced his 'Mech back on its feet.

"Honestly I should bump you back to basics for that screw-up but for your exemplary performance I'll let it slide just this once." Raju jerked his 'Mech's metaphorical thumb over his shoulder " Let's head back. You got a ceremony to get to."

Nodding Will put jogged his mech over matching speed with the Centurion. They walked past Wills handy work, the smoldering wrecks of tanks past their prime. "So, how did you get that big ass tank anyway?"

"I got my ways. Don't worry 'bout it too much, Say, your family's going to the capital soon right?" Will nodded but smacked himself since Raju couldn't actually see that.

"Yeah, we'll be attending the Arano birthday Ball be weird to see Arano and Espinosa again after all this time, Guess me taking over for grandad is important enough to get an invite again. Speaking of birthdays."

"Hm?"

"What's my callsign? You said you have to earn that since you taught me everything I guess that means you gotta name me."

Raju mulled it over. True he had said that but he wasn't in the habit of giving names to his students, then again Will wasn't an ordinary noble scion. He'll have to think a bit longer on it.

"Tell you what kid. I promise to tell you before I head out. Think you can wait till then?"

"Just make good on that promise, unlike the last one to be there yesterday!"

"I told you I'm no good at-" A crackle of the open channel cut them off.

"Emergen-Underattac-unmark 'Mechs-"

Will and Raju's attention snapped to the emergency channels of the coms, that was the house guards.

"What?!" Will shouted as he hit the jets. Shooting up high into the air to get a look over the tree line.

It was hell, the manor in flames burned out husks of the house guards combat vehicles, the BlackJack and Centurion were the only ones on the estate. Where they safe? He hit the ground hard the legs groaning as they took the shock.

"Everything's on fire! Mastiff we gotta go now!" Will shouted gunning his throttle to full Raju joining him they had the same top speed after all.

"Kid calm down, going in blind will get us both killed, we aren't armed for mech on mech combat!" Raju tried to reel him in but Will made his mech shrug it off and went for a long distance leap with his jets outpacing Raju.

"I still got my lasers and you have missiles. I'll scout ahead but I NEED to go!" Will shouted making long leaps leaving Raju in the dust.

"Kid Wait!"

It took him half a minute he was starting to build up heat from all the jumping but he couldn't afford to stop. Every second he wasn't there meant another second of his family at the mercy of whoever was attacking them. Every time he rose above the treeline the more desperate he got. He could see the celebration grounds in flames, the guest scattered or dead, why was this happening?! It was supposed to be a happy day! A dream come true, now it's a living nightmare. He made one final jump and cleared the training ground treeline he landed hard on something. An unmarked technical. Good one of those bastards down.

He sprinted to the front of the manor blasting anything that wasn't marked with the family crest. To they're credit the lighter vehicles turned and ran rather than face a pissed off BattleMech but he took the opportunity to kick the closest of them away, they would all pay for this. He was cycling every sensor reading he could while trying to hail any and all friendly units, a broadcast on an open channel made his blood run cold.

"Master William! Come in Please!" Clara's panic voice came in. Will wasted no time.

"Clara get off that channel now!" but it fell on deaf ears.

"We're in the west wing. Hurry Lady McLean is badly injur-" an explosion cut her off followed by a plume of smoke where their location was. This wasn't happening.

"Dammit No!" Will jumped over the lower wing of the manor. Only to see a gaping hole in were the west wing was...Wilma's room was in that wing shook his thoughts from then he locks eyes with two 'Mechs. A Hunchback and Firestarter painted a faded light purple with no markings, they seemed rough but not pirate rough. Didn't matter what or who they were, Will pulled the trigger and dumped four laser burns square into the Hunchback's rear armor. To their credit they reacted the second the sound of melting armor became apparent. The Hunchback twisted as fast as its chassis would permit its right arm coming around to fire its own burn across WIll's 'Mech, superficial damage at best but he can't be in front of that thing when it's hunch mounted AC comes around. He jumped forward , putting his BlackJacks foot out in a flying kick to the Hunchback's side torso hoping his momentum would help his mech knock over the heavier mech. It kinda worked. Forced it to its knee with is arm propping it up. He would've fired his lasers again point blank if not for the stream of flames and machine gun fire the Firestarter was putting into his side the machine guns would take a bit of solid connections to do any real damage to his armor but the flamethrowers threatened to push his mech over the threshold. Opting for another melee attack; Will lashed out with his foot connecting with the Firestarter leg kicking it out from under him and making it fall over on its side….into the manor.

"Damn it all!" He yelled kicking himself for endangering whoever might still be alive in this part of the manor but he had a fifty tonner to take care of; too slow as a single round of AC 20 fire slammed into his right arm nearly blowing it clean off and him off his feet. Will cursed loudly as he turned about, firing his lasers into the Hunchback's cockpit couldn't miss at this range and it was still immobilized. The melting of the cockpit canopy and the slumping over of the 'Mech rewarded him his first mech kill. No time to deal there's a Firestarter to fry next. The sound of jump jets alerted him and he wiped around where it should be laying but seeing only a pile of burning rubble. He looked and saw that the Firestarter had rocketed up over him and landed over the stone wall surrounding the manor.

"You ain't getting away from me!" wasting no time he fired his jets and landed atop the stone wall seeing the Firestarter making a beeline for open ground. Looking at his hud he saw that he had one burst of his left AC in him. He took aim, fired, and saw that he had fired the last of his live rounds right in the back of a Firestarter moving full tilt at 900 meters, the explosive rounds buried themselves into its back critting the core and setting off what would be an impressive explosion if he wasn't on a blood high. He pivot around to look at the burning section of his home scanning with his zoom optics. Nothing, he'll have to go in on foot, jetting down for a soft landing (for 'Mech standards anyway) he resisted the urge to core out the Hunchback out of spite. They'll need the money an intact chassis would bring to have a hope of recovering from this.

"Damn kid hell of shot back there" Raju intoned having finally gotten to the west wing. "Who ever attacked us didn't bring much looks like you got the only 'Mechs of the force. But the mansions a total wash they were here to kill and kill only."

Not really hearing Raju WIll powdered his 'Mech down and deployed a rope ladder to get down from the standing mech. He'll worry about getting back in later. Making a mad dash to the open wound of the building. He didn't like it.

Raju had opted to rally what was left of the House McLean forces and try to figure out just what the hell happened, what he could gather from the survivors was that all but one of the retaining families under House McLean were present for Will's coming of age/becoming the new pilot of the family 'Mech. A high ranking officer just to happen to be part of said missing family and just so happens to be in charge of the orbital sensors that track passing dropship traffic. It was a classic betrayal if Raju had ever seen one family hired a pirate band of mercs to come in and smash the place up and hopefully catch them weak enough to kill and seize House holdings and assets. He'll have to take care to not let this happen with future clients, the mother was full of herself sometimes but the McLeans were good people as far as nobles go. Having directed surviving 'Mech Techs to haul his Centurion, Will's Blackjack, and the pirate Hunchback back to the 'Mech bays to rearm and repair he made way in in search of his student and praying he hasn't done something stupid.

It didn't take long however. He saw him in the east wing standing in front of his Grandfathers portrait a duffle bag over his shoulder and clutching a bloody plush 'Mech to his chest with his helmet. He was staring at the younger image of Hessian.

"They're all gone." Will's voice was low and hoarse, he's probably been screaming bloody murder until recently, probably gonna affect his voice for a long time to come. He looked hardened. Mouth pulled into a tight scowl. Raju honestly thought he was looking at a young Hessian right there and then.

"So what are you gonna do now?" Raju asked, even though he knew the answer. He knew the look the young scion had.

"House McLean is dead, there's nothing for me here, only option is to go away and let fate decide how I live now. It's just gonna be be me and Jackie from here on in." Will felt a hand on his shoulder, he didn't shrug away.

"I just want you to know that you're family wouldn't blame you. You did good today and I'd wager you'll be as every bit of a soldier your old man was."

"I'm gonna wander the Periphery, probably freelance gonna have two if I want to keep Jackie going. I'll be selling all non sentimental McLean assets so you'll be paid in full as per your contract." He looked down stroking the plushie with his thumb. "Maybe one day we'll meet again, maybe we'll even work together on the same job, I'd hate to be on the opposing side to you." He gave a hollow laugh, trying to find his old humor but its withered and died in that moment.

Raju stayed silent for a minute and started walking away down the hall. "I'd like that Bullseye!" He called out as he picked up the pace, as he figured he had the young 'MechWarrior hot on his heels. He chuckled.

"Bullseye? You sure? Aren't callsigns like that looked down upon in merc circles?"

"Sure they are, But you fully earned it, even before today you're probably the best shot with autocannons I've seen since your old man. Keep it up and you'll be a triple Marksman just like him." For a moment he saw some of Will's old light back in his eye.

"We'll see Mastiff but I'll make damn sure I do you good, you're the best money can buy after all"

"You're doing pretty good so far I'd say." First the first time in hours the two felt like things haven't gone to hell in a handbasket.

* * *

The next few years seemed to passed by too quickly. All those small contracts dealing with pirates and war criminals, meeting back up with Mastiff and seeing Victoria and Kamea again, surprised they remembered him, Kamea was still the same old stary eye girl he remembered. Reminded him of his sister to be honest. Victoria...she changed, she still had that confidence, any student of Raju, thats a given; but he could tell she was hiding something she was always sizing him up at first he thought it was cause he was one of Raju's best, like her, but the day of the coupe came and it all made sense. F C*in' bitch, she's gonna pay, she and her shithead father. Next thing after that a medbay dark man looking over him with two Asians nearby. An unlucky merc company that lost their leader in the bombing on Coromodir. Granddad was right the Periphery is just bad luck for folks like them. Cause now, here he sat the ripe old age of 22 sitting in his BJ-1 in the old Leopard's 'mechbay, neural helmet between his knees and Wilma's favorite plush in his hands. It's staring back at him with is yellow slits, it's seen better days but McLeans take care of their stuff. He kisses the top of its head.

"Wish me luck Wilma, Got some Miners that need help today."

Simple job on paper, Clear out corporation forces that were being overly hostile to local miners. Garrison was pretty lite probably some poorly maintained mechs. But the desert would prove a problem, can't rely too much on lasers and using jump jets. And Glitch's PPC would have to be used a sparingly as possible. He'll have to be on top of my game. It'll be his first drop as the "official" commander of Bullseye's Marauders, how he Wish he could change that but too much paperwork. Its funny. he's easily the youngest person on the ship but turns out having a lick commander's instinct in you and having a ship full of slackers gets you the boss' chair, oh well private cabin even if the bed is nowhere as good sleeping as in the cockpit...could just be him on that though. The others seem nice enough though he questions the logic of signing for a loan with that high of an interest rate but hey, he flew solo all of his short career.

Yang's cool he's a 'Mech Tech even if he's a Capellen he's always gonna be cool in Will's book. Darius is ok, he did tell the others to pull him out the handbasket. Sumire….well he's still figuring that out. Good pilot though even if her hatred of birds is weird, Clara loved birds… His lancemates are their own brand of crazy. First was Dekker, ex military, nobility but somehow the second he became a merc his luck went to hell faster than mine. Will thought

He liked Raju a lot though so he pretty much defers to me even when he first came in, Good with anything fast, leans more toward moving and shooting rather than scanning area.

Glitch is a damn maniac; Like you'd only see her type in pirate bands. So she's kinda scary to be around not too bad of a shot with PPCs but she needs to stop Alphaing all the damn time.

Behemoth was probably the last to accept him. To be fair he was edging her out of her leadership role of the Lance but he was just better at it than she'd ever be. Mean right hook. Both in and out of the mech, Don't piss off.

Medusa is our back up scout/technician. A quiet guy likes to tinker with medium Lasers but really not much else noteworthy when he's not trying to rewire their coffee machine to make lates. Sumrie almost threw him out the airlock for that. Deavion blend tea is better anyway so no skin off his nose.

Will's musings are interrupted as the turbulence of atmospheric entry begins, setting down the plushie, its made from the same material as Solaris 7 fuzzy dice. It'll survive the worst of a 'Mech cockpit and puts on his helmet. Checking his cooling suit, finally grew into the damn thing too, was connected to the life support he radios the lance.

"This is Bullseye, everyone buckle up and sound off I want y'all off as soon as touchdown." The order came naturally as he goes about the startup sequence

 **REACTOR ONLINE.**

"This is Behemoth, ready op."

 **SENSORS ONLINE.**

"This is Dekker, ready op."

 **WEAPONS ONLINE.**

"This is Glitch, ready op!"

 **ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL.**

Will felt more of his old smile return, 6 years since that day and the countless drops he's done in that time, he still lives for this, he was born for it after all.

The Dropship momentum comes to a halt and Will feel himself become weightless as the BlackJack drops 10 meters onto the pale sandy earth. He bends his neck to get rid of a crick. Something was gonna happen, he gets cricks when something happens, Oh well just shoot it in the face, that always works. Mustering his best impression of his granddad he gives the order.

"Form on me. We're doin' this quick and clean and back before teatime, one with the most kills gets extra cake. Ya hear me!?"

"Yes commander!" His lance answers him, he chuckles.

"Alright then, MOVE OUT!"

Maybe his luck will change someday.


	2. ClaimJumpers

The crick was still persisting as they assembled in the lightly guarded mining camp of the Independent Prospector's League: IPL, a trio of light turrets situated in the corners of the camp with the generator powering them in the center. It was every bit as run down as Will had expected it to be. Darius and the IPL were doing the usual contractor exchange, Will couldn't be bothered to care as he checked the overhead map of the Opfor Sumrie had sent him after her flyby of the area. The miners wanted blood for the slaughter of their comrades by the Majestic Mining Corporation and the job was to smash up two of MMC's mining platforms plus the planetary HQ of their operation here. The reports cited light BattleMech presence and a grid of turrets protecting the sites. They'll have to destroy the generator powering the whole grid if they'd want to keep the repair bill low.

"Are you ready Commander?" Darius' voice filtered into his comms. Will bent his neck to the side, popping the crick.

"Been ready for last the ten minutes. That IPL guy sure likes hearin' himself talk."

"Maybe so but he's our employer so play nice."

"I'm the definition of nice." Will laughed, applying throttle. "Marauders, fall in behind and match speed. We got a payday to earn."

"Right behind you commander." Dekker intoned for the lance as his Spider took formation on Will's six. The other two followed suit.

The first target was situated at the top of a long road flanked by two steep rock walls on the left. And to the right was a sheer drop into an open plain that lead to a gentler slope but offered no cover whatsoever.

"Dekker jump down into that plain, I'll provide cover from the ridge. Behemoth, Glitch: follow the road and stop just as the MMC's platform gets into sensor range. Hold until I give the command." Will ordered, breaking his BlackJack right onto the outcropping as Dekker fired his jets and leaped down into the lowlands.

"Understood!" replied Behemoth as her ShadowHawk and Glitch's Vindicator broke left up the canyon's dirt road.

"What's the plan Commander?" Dekker asked as soon as he landed making his way to the base at a slow cruise.

"We're gonna draw the garrison's attention, I want to you get into sensor range and book it back to me as soon as they send someone to check out the blip that just popped on their radar." Will had Jackie take its gunnery stance. Legs apart and braced for sustained fire. AC/2s were the lightest of the AutoCannon family but they tended to climb when fired rapidly.

"I'm on it!"

Dekker gunned his throttle, sprinting to the base of the slope that the platform overlooked. Just as Will expected the BattleMechs guarding the platform came running to the top of the slope. There was just two, a beat up Spider and a fresh looking Commando. The Spider wouldn't be much of a threat but a fresh Commander with its SRMs is an entirely other matter. Dekker's Spider spun on its heel as he gunned the jets to avoid the Spider and Commando's opening salvo as they barreled down the slope.

"I have their attention Commander!" Dekker yelled as the fulliside of lasers and missiles cratered the earth his "Mech was standing just but a split second ago.

"Bring 'em a little closer Dekker I almost have lock." Will replied drawing a bead on the shoddy Spider.

Dekker made short, zig-zagging hops with his jets to keep his pursuers form doing anything more than light damage with their lasers, SRMs to the back are no joke. He was relieved when he heard his commander's ACs come to life. Fing off three bursts into the running Spider. First staggering it and the other two slamming into its center torso, coring it out in a spray of sparks and smoke.

"Dekker jump behind that thing and make a break for the generator! Glitch, Behemoth; Move in now!" Will barked as he jumped down into the lowlands, pulsing his ACs at the Commando.

Dekker swung wide around the Commando, firing off all of his 'Mechs jump jets to gain distance. Narrowingly dodging a salvo of missiles from the Commando's arm-mounted launch tubes. It would've turned to pursue if not for of Will's bursts chewing up the ground next to it. The Commando broke into a full sprint, juking side to side while angling its torso. Not that it would save it. Will chuckled as he drew a bead and pull the trigger. A great bang rocked his cockpit and his neural helmet's feed lit up red in his eyes.

 **WARNING, AMMO FEED MALFUNCTION.**

The crick was right.

* * *

Glitch was laughing as she and Behemoth fired their long range weapons into the generator. PPC, AC rounds, and missiles slammed into the structure. The half dozen sensor blips around them died down as their power source went up in smoke.

"That's that for this area, c'mon Behemoth we got a tower to bring down." She hooted as she spun her Vindicator on its heel.

Behemoth was inclined to follow were it not for Dekker sprinting pass her.

"Hey, Dekker! Where's the Commander?" She barked as Dekker came to a sliding stop in front of Glitch.

"He's tangling with that Commando, he should be ok by himself. He had range on it."

"And you didn't think to go back and check?"

"Aw c'mon Behemoth. The Commander can pop a sprinting Locust's cockpit at seven hundred meters. I think he can handle one light 'Mech." Glitch implored, she was getting bored just standing there. There were things to shoot!

Behemoth resisted the urge to pinch her nose, mainly because her bulky neural helmet would be in the way. She pivoted her ShadowHawk around and bounded off toward the plains.

"I'll go check on the kid, you two finish the job."

"We're on it!"

Behemoth shook her head as she jetted to the top of the rocks overlooking the plains. Her jaw dropped.

"The hell!?"

* * *

Slamming his fist into the BlackJack's ammo eject control Will heard a groaning as his ACs slides were forcibly drawn back, ejecting the dude shells, and test firing each one as they were chambered. All duds so far. Will swore harshly.

The Commando was in SRM range now and fired an Alpha. The laser burned a line in his armor as he sidestepped as quick as the 'Mech could to just avoid taking ten missiles to the face. Hopping back a short ways Will brought his lasers to bear. Firing two at a time he aimed for center mass but the Commando proved to be no amateur as it bobbed and weaved; effectively dancing in front of Will and ensuring his lasers were only burning fresh armor. He swore again.

The Commando pivoted on its foot and swung into practically knife fighting range as it burned its laser into WiIl's right torso. A single laser wouldn't put him down, bring his body to bear on the Commando he pulled the trigger only for his aim to be thrown off as six SRMs buried themselves into his glowing side jolting him in his seat.

 **WARNING ARMOR BREACH.**

Swearing again Will whipped his head around to see the Commando's arm mounted tube launcher rising to point at his cockpit. Swearing yet again, he forced the BlackJack to fall backwards while kicking it's foot up making it knock the murderous arm upward its payload just missing his head by an inch at best. Kicking on his jump jets he sailed backward only just barely righting himself at the end of his flight. Upon landing he pulled the trigger, three beams burned into the arm that almost put an end of his career. The blast took out one of his lasers, he realized, four would have taken the arm out. His heat gage was kissing the red and jumping would cause a shut down leaving him sitting duck. More swearing.

The Commando pointed both arms at him, it's torso squared on him as well. Will pushed his heat fatigued myomers into action as he tried to sprint to the side and twist so his left would take the blow, praying his heat would dissipate enough to let him jump out of SRM range before they could reload again.

The universe decided to have mercy for once as three barrages of LRMs slammed into the Commando's back, sending it face planting into the ground while firing. Four SRMs went flying off in the distance and six detonated in their blocked tubes, cooking off the ammo in the reloading racks. It would've been more satisfying if not for the pilot ejecting out the last second, their pod sailing off into the air.

The sound of his panting and the BlackJack's ammo feed ejecting dud shells Will looked up to the rocky outcropping spying Behemoths ShadowHawk silhouetted against the horizon; waving at him.

"You ok boss?" Behemoths deep voice sounded like an angel of mercy at that moment. Will shakily thumbed the comms button.

"Y-yeah, bit of hairy situation there. Weapons jammed."

"Ouch, we'll have Yang look at it on the ship." Will nodded and started to make his way to her position.

"Among other things."

* * *

They all reconfined in front of the IPL's platform. Dekker and Glitch had handily taken care of the reinforcing tanks the MMC had sent to defend its tower.

"Like stompin' bugs!" Glitch had intoned as she and Dekker came up the slope.

"Brilliant work, Commander. Clearly, you were the right people for the job!" The way the IPL representative talked made Will almost wish he were still dueling that Commando.

"We should have no trouble mopping the rest of the other platforms now."

Darius's voice toned in over the radio. "We get the job done, Now about our-"

"I wasn't finished."

What?

"Clearing them won't matter if we can't hold them."

The turrets swung around to face his lance. Son of a

"So we'll be needing your BattleMechs."

"You might wanna reconsider that…" Darius's voice was wary.

"Why? Our turret system has your mech lock-" an explosion cut the IPL rep's voice off as the turret generator went up in flames.

"I tried to warn you."

* * *

A thoroughly miffed Will walked his 'Mech into the Dropship's open bay as he turned into its mooring. Fisting the ammo eject switch his 'Mech cycled all the remaining duds onto the 'Mechbay floor. Powering down he exited his 'Mech. Securing Wilma's plushie to his hip he ripped his neural helmet off as he hopped onto the lift. Glitch, Dekker, and Behemoth were already on the floor comparing kill counts.

Hopping off the lift he walked over to the pile of shells around the BlackJack's feet. Picking a few up before the lifting off Leopard caused them to scattered he started to examine them. The first red flag was that the primer was missing. The second was that the armor penetrating head was made of casted _zinc_ of all things with a series of holes? His frown deepened as he pocketed the other shells and bit into the tip, ripping it free with a pop and poured the contents of the shell into his hand. By then the lance and surrounding 'Mech Techs were worriedly looking at him as his face become more and more furious. His taste test didn't result in the usual nastiness of propellant but of... _salt?_ His eyes widening in disbelief and dropping his helmet he tossed the open shell aside, narrowly missing Yang's head, and grabbed another shell from his pocket. Stomping up to the nearest white surface he tipped the shell over and started shaking it, sure enough, the black powder came out in small dashes. His ammo bin had been full of AC/2 shell shaped _**salt shakers.**_ He was shaking at this point. His teeth bared in what in certain parts of the Periphery in the past had been known as the Hessian's grin. The sound of objects hitting the floor and scuffing of boots filled the 'Mech bay as his lance mates and terrified 'Mech Techs starting running to the far side of the room.

"The Commander's gone critical! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"

Ignoring them he made a mad dash through the ship and up the ladder to the bridge, a single word on his lips.

* * *

Darius Oliveira was having a bad day. A three hundred and fifty thousand C-bill payday wasn't going to happen and he just watched his young boss tear their former employers a collective new one. On top of that, he could practically _feel_ the holes Sumire was boring into the back of his head with her gaze. He was gonna ask what else would go wrong when he heard yelling under them and someone climbing the ladder faster than humanly possible.

" _ **DARIUS!"**_ Will's furious visage popped up the hole like a demented whack a mole, earning a yelp of terror from both Darius and Sumire.

Before Darius had a chance to speak Will crawled up to his feet and rounded onto him. Grabbing his collar and lifting him up slightly. Will locked eyes with him as he pulled something from his pocket with his free hand.

"Do you know what this is?" Will's voice had gone unsettlingly calm. He gulped, Will may have been twelve years younger than him but at that time he was only second to a coffee deprived Sumire in terms of the pants-shitting horror he was feeling.

"An AC/2 shell boss?" Will sneered and pointed the tip of the shell to him, showing the holes.

"Sure looks like it doesn't it?" Will brought the shell to his teeth and ripped off the tip. Shoving the contents down into Darius' mouth.

"BUT IT'S NOT! That ammo you bought last week wasn't ammo, it was F $*in' novelty salt shakers!" He tossed the empty shell over his shoulder forcing Sumire to duck under its arc. He started shaking Darius, who was sputtering and spitting as he tried not to swallow an unhealthy amount of salt.

"I almost died 'cause you cheaped out!"

"Sumire help!" Behind WIll's back, Sumire was on the floor grasping for something with weight to it.

"There's no help to be had. Not till I'm done shoving the rest these things right up YOUR AS-" _Clang!_

Will's head jerk forward his eye's crossing as he let go of Darius and slumped over. Over him was Sumrie, her favorite metal coffee mug in her hand, she was panting. Darius straightened out, taking a calming breath. He was about to thank her when her open palm snapped across his face with a deafening _Whack!_ Dazed Darius slumped back into his chair and stared dumbly at Sumire, who had somehow looked angrier than she had before.

Turning on her heel she walked over to her side of the bridge and thumbed the comms.

"Yang, collect the Commander's tea set, an ice bag and come up to the bridge. I'm calling an emergency staff meeting."

* * *

The sound of metal on ceramic filled the bridge as Will stirred in the four packets worth of sugar into his second cup of tea. The first one was to help him calm down and clear his mind of the image of Sumire holding him up and pressing an ice bag to the back of his head where she hit him. He was still holding the bag to his head. Least he had a front row seat of Sumire chewing Darius out.

" _Three years_ and we're still stuck in the ass end space up to our necks in debt!"

Will took a sip of his tea. House Davion blend: hot, black, strong, and _sweet_. Only way to drink it. The perfect beverage to go along with watching his XO _squirm._

"I'm well aware of that Sumire but I can't conjure up well paying clients out of thin air," He looked over to Will, braving the gaze of him and he swore even the toy was giving him a dirty look. "C'mon Commander back me up a little."

Will raised an eyebrow as he looked between the two. Yang was sitting on the crate next to Sumire a bemused expression on his face.

"This why you put me in charge? Breaking up arguments and signing off financial reports?" Will ask, draining his tea and pouring a third, five packs in this one, gonna need it.

"Ya damn right it is! " Yang chuckled. "Sides having a young good looking noble helps with the image when Canopus banks come ringing." Will rolled his eyes, if he had to put on his camera face for one more banker with more cats than brain cells he'd eat his foot. "Even then when we made you leader we all agreed to follow your lead, so far you haven't done us wrong on that front."

Will nodded his head. He was being buttered up but he needed a mood boost.

"So Darius, mind telling us how deep this hole is?"

Darius scratched the back of his head. "Well point one: none of the C-bills we make belong to us, but to the banks. Point two is that the clients out here are terrible; plain and simple. So unless you want me to sidestep the Mercenary Review Board entirely, my hands are tied." Yang was not pleased.

"Go around the MRB? That's asking a for a knife to the back!"

"We just got a knife to the back" Will intoned, halfway through his fourth cup. Six packets.

"That's the exception, we go around the MRB it'll be the rule." Yang countered, how much sugar can that guy intake? "Remind me again why we can't skip town again."

"The jumpships are in bed with the banks. And they're keeping us on a _very_ short leash." Sumire answered, looking at the pitiful amount of systems open to them for travel. Yang sighed.

"Good reason, well you better find us some real money soon Darius. 'Cause soon something's gonna break I can't fix with duct tape and good intentions."

"If you need tips on how to handle betrayal, my door is always open to you Yang." Will raised his cup to Yang, the flash of hollowness in his eyes betrayed his mirth.

"Guess I better mentally prepare for that knife in the back then."

"Now you're getting it."

"It's settled then." Darius clapped his hands together. "Not much to lose at this point. I'll start digging around and see what I can find. Till then we do regular jobs to stay afloat."

Will finished his cup and set it down on its saucer on the console next to him and stood up. Fastening his Atlas plushie to his hip.

"And with that, I do call this meeting to a close," Will said nodding to Sumire. "I trust you'll see my set down to the cupboard? Me and Yang have a date with the ammo store." Sumire nodded. Will grinned. "Knew I could count on you, unlike some people." He kept that bit under his breath. "Set course for the nearest system, Darius!" Darius jumped as he watched Yang climbed down the ladder with WIll following after him only to stop just before his head disappeared. "Line up a contract for us in the next system, maximum c-bill payout."

"Yes, Commander."

"Also," Darius gulped. And gave a tentative "Yes?" Will locked eyes with him.

"For every crate I find with bogus ammo down there is a paycheck I'm docking fifty percent from, do you understand me?"

Darius shuddered. Sumire gave him a look of zero sympathy only a Drac woman could muster. He sighed.

"Yes, Commander."

"Good. Now get to work XO." Will's head sunk down into the ladder well. Darius let out the breath he'd been holding.

He needed to find that contract fast.

* * *

 **AN: Well this one was fun writing. To my one follower and anyone else joining me here, I'd love to hear your thoughts on how I've handled things thus far, specifically how I write my Mech engagements, which let's be honest is why most of us are here, to begin with.**

As per usual writer wank, Read and review. I can't improve if I don't get feedback on what I'm doing wrong.


	3. One Small Step

Bellerophon's arid plains were filled with the sounds of battle. Of lasers discharging and autocannons firing; jump jets firing and the sickening crunch of buckling armor. Said battle seem like a turkey shoot. Though if one were to tune into the Lance comms of Bullseye's Marauders, it painted a different story.

"WHERE DID THESE THINGS COME FROM?!" Dekker's panicked voice shouted over the drone of battle in Will's neural helmet.

"I don't know! Just keep firing!"

It was a simple job. Take care of a few pirate piloted Fleas. And there were Fleas. Ramshackle barely armored, one medium laser to anywhere and they exploded Fleas. But instead of the four, five tops he expected. There were twenty. They've been hired to take out a _swarm_ , and Will was running out of ammo.

" **DARIUS!** " Will's scream echoed through the plains.

* * *

Darius shuddered for a moment as he poured over any leads for a decent paying job, he was hoping to get one before they touched down to pick Will up from his bug war on the surface.

"You're going to get an earful when he gets back." Sumire side from her side of the bridge. She was firing up her coffee maker and Will's kettle.

"I don't have control over what happens planetside you know."

"I'm not the one you need to tell that to."

Darius rolled his eyes and continued digging. At this point, he'd have to sell Will off to a Canopian film studio to have a chance to make a _dent_ in their debt. He sighed heavily.

 _Ding Ding Ding_

And HPG message? Darius perked. A _priority_ HPG message. That meant money, lots of it. There was hope.

* * *

Will powered the BlackJack down as he maneuvered into its mooring. Taking a moment to look over Behemoth's ShadowHawk in the opposite bay. Charred black from laser fire, as was all their 'Mechs except the spare Locust.

"Back in black I see!" Yang laughed as Will descended from the 'Mechs hatch. Will gave his favorite 'Mechtech a withering look.

"How much fresh armor do we have left?"

Yang checked his clipboard.

"Five tons. We'll have to start recycling."

"Strip the Locust down bare, I want the ShadowHawk and Vindicator to have first dibs in that order."

"Right away boss."

"Will, Yang. Get up to the bridge, we're holding a meeting." Darius' voice sounded over the intercom. Will and Yang looked at each other.

"Think he found something?"

"He better have."

* * *

As soon as Yang and Will filed into their preferred spots on the bridge and tea had been poured Darius cleared his voice.

"Ok people I've been fishing around for contractions and I might-repeat, might- have found us something."

"Who's the client?" Sumire asked.

"Didn't say, just that she claims to be of the Canopian elite. Says she has a big job for us, _specifically_ us. She mentioned Will by name."

Will's eyes widen and started to wrack his brain for any of his past dealings near Canopian holdings.

"Any guesses who it might be boss?" Yang asked. Will shook his head.

"Only thing that comes to mind are a couple poor farming settlements with pirate problems. I never dealt with Canopian nobles outside of my childhood. How she even hear of us anyway? Minor notoriety aside, we're a no-name merc company."

"That's what I'd like to know too," Yang added. "You sure she isn't some bounty hunter? I can name five banks that'd just love to repo this ship."

"I know Yang but this may be our only shot, it's uncertain, but what is certain is that we got this as a priority HPG message."

The air thickened as the others shifted in attention. Will downed his cup.

"That's expensive. _Very_ expensive..." He murmured, licking his lips. "We'll meet this mystery client, but that's all we do till we hear her pitch." His voice was low and wary. Canopians weren't strangers to killing civies if they thought they were in the way of something they wanted.

"Fair enough," Sumire said. "Though it's worth the risk. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Our 'new client' vents us out the airlock and our corpses spend the rest of forever tumbling through the icy vastness of space." Yang deadpanned. Gotta hand it to him; he could paint a cheery picture.

"Thanks for the delightful image there Yang." Darius turned to Will. "Look, Will, I'll admit. This is sketchy as all hell but its the best lead we're ever to likely find. The client said they're waiting here on Bellerophon when you're ready to follow up let me know."

The sound of Will's neck popping was his reply as he stood up and started to straighten his cooling suit and hair. Walking up closer to the holo table HPG communications are carried out. Snapping his hands behind his back and heels he drew his lips into a hard line and lifted his chin giving the air in front of him a passive gaze. The "portrait pose" as it was known.

"No time like the present then. Darius, open the link." He ordered. Darius flipped the switch and an image of a woman in her late thirties at least appeared. No doubt that she was of Canopian nobility.

"Mr. Oliveria, thank you for honoring my request to meet. My name is Ana Maria Centrella." She paused to brush a strand of hair that had fallen out of place. "You've heard of my family, I'm sure."

The others had stiffened slightly, _royalty?_ Will to his credit didn't flinch even as he was going over the numerous possibilities a royal family member would have for mercs. Darius recovered first.

"Lady Centrella, this _is_ a surprise. I wouldn't expect a member of the royal family to even know who we are let alone contact in such a... _nontraditional_ manner."

Centrella gave a smooth smile.

"It wasn't a traditional contract, to begin with, can't have ComStar asking questions. There was also no need to involve the MRB; I already know that I want to hire you. Have I piqued your interest, Commander McLean?" She asked, but her self assured expression told she _knew_ he had him by the hook. Will gave a small nod.

"My interest, yes. But I'll need details before I commit to anything." Her smile widened.

"I expect nothing less from you. The job is a relatively simple one. I need you to recover something from me and I need it done quietly." Yeah right, WIll thought. You don't hire 'MechWarriors for quiet.

"And in exchange for your services, I will pay down the interest of your sizable loans to buy you the breathing room you've been looking for.

How did she know about the loans? Will fought down his eyebrow from raising. Don't show anything.

"What will we be recovering?" Darius asked.

"This."

Her image was replaced by a photo of an enormous dropship, half-buried on a moon. Will could make out a veritable shantytown attached to its rotten hull. He could only see her in his periphery but he saw Sumire stiffened at the implications the photo meant. _Lostec_.

Centrella's image flickered back into view.

"She's a derelict vessel, an Argo. One of only two ever built. For over two hundred years she's been lying in stasis on Axylus, a pirate moon in the heart of the Frontier. I want her, Commander, and you're going to bring it to me."

"Yeah?" Yang butted in. "And how, exactly, are we supposed to do that? That's a big ship and by the looks of how her ribs are showing she's been cannibalized for parts. I love money as much as the next guy but I'm a 'MechTech, Not an aerospace engineer. I'll be damned before I could get that thing flying again."

Centrella gave a smooth chuckle that made Yang bristle.

"Relax Mr. Virtanen. I have an engineering staff on hand to attend the Argo. Their leader, Dr. Farah Murad, has built quite a reputation for herself on the Frontier. There's a jump ship waiting for you at Alloway. It will take you to the pirate moon, where you will clear a path to the crash site and safeguard Dr. Murad and her team as they work to bring the Argo back online. This should be all within your capabilities Commander McLean. Or perhaps I came to the wrong company?" The verbally challenged was issued, Will returned in kind.

"I've been out on the Frontier long enough to handle a few two-bit pirates Lady Centrella."

"Then I see no reason for you to not accept my offer. Do the job well and there'll be more work waiting for you upon your return." Her tone changed ever so slightly that only one used to noble politicking could pick it out. "Mr. Oliveira will never find you a better contract then the one I'm offering, Commander McLean. I can promise you that." The threat was made.

"She isn't wrong, Will." Darius chimed. "We're looking for a lifeline, and this is the closest we're going to get." Time to make a choice then, Will thought.

"My company will handle all you can throw at us Lady Centrella. I'll be proving that to you in spades when we land on that moon." Centrella gave a very "pleased with herself" smile.

"Then I'll forward the contract to Mr. Oliveira...You know, your reputation as a freelancer is known in the Magistry. I'm sure you'll live up it and Sir Wilhelm's legacy in spades." Will's impassive expression broke into a scowl, Centrella smiled. "There's a gift waiting for you at the spaceport on Bellerophon. Consider it a taste of what you can expect while working for me. Till our next meeting Commander." Her image flickered out as the connection was cut. Will dropped his stance. Why did she bring up his grandfather?

* * *

Ana Centrella chuckled to herself as she ended the communication. A voice behind her spoke up.

"You didn't have to bring up his grandfather you know." Centrella smiled at her young benefactee.

"Oh humor me just this once, the McLean scowl is really a treat to behold." She gave a slight wave. "And besides, he'd needed to be reminded of his family obligations. Especially if he's to be your spear in the trials to come. It'd be a pity for him to turn his back after all the investing we've been doing, Majesty Metals took convincing into letting us use that site as a stage...hows your arm by the way?" The figure rubbed where the splint used to be.

"Only a little sore now." Centrella tsked.

"I know you like to be extra sure but maybe next time don't almost kill your man. The McLeans are sharpshooters and soldiers. Not Solaris gladiators."

"I don't think I'd survive a next time. I'm not too proud to admit that I was lucky with that weapon's failure."

"Either way, if all goes as planned, he'll be fighting for your banner as he should be."

"You say that like there's a chance of failure. Never when Bullseye is involved."

* * *

"Something's bothering you, Yang. Let it out." Will said as he and Yang stepped out of the Leopard and onto the platform to receive their promised package. Yang sighed.

"I know I shouldn't complain about having most of our debt washed away, but I still wish it happened differently."

"How so?"

"It's a Magistry highborn, the highest of highborn mind, that has us bowing to her. And you know I hate bowing to nobles much less ones I don't trust." Will had long since learned of Yang's animosity towards nobility. The Capellan Confederation had a very clear line dividing the haves and have-nots, especially when promotions were concerned.

"You don't trust _any_ nobles to begin with Yang."

"Present company exempted boss." Yang nodded as a dock worker started walking towards them. "So what do you think miss royalty gave us?"

"We'll see I'm sure."

"You Commander McLean?" The older dock worker asked as he got into earshot. "Got a big shipment for the merc company docked here."

"What's in it?" Yang asked. The worker handed Will the invoice.

Will lowered it to give Yang a clear view. Eyebrows were raised, looks exchanged and they nodded.

"Where do we sign?"

* * *

"A full mech!?" Darius shouted in amazement when he saw the newest addition of the 'Mech line up. A JN7-D Jenner.

"She's not stock either, look at the missile racks. Two sets of four. Only two laser focusers too so she's not sacrificing any more armor." Yang was practically giddy.

"Dekker is gonna love it for sure, strikers like this are hard to come by. Much less in such good condition." Will said, looking over the rest of their delivery. "Some good stuff here, top of the line Kali Yamas, Magmas. An entire restock of our armor stores. Even _premium ammo,_ Darius, ya hear that? PREMIUM AMMO!" Darius groaned. Digging into his now ringing ear.

"Loud and clear sir."

Damn right you did. Will thought as he tapped Yang's shoulder.

"I want fresh plates on all the 'Mechs we're dropping, their ammo replaced with the good stuff and if we can squeeze it in, the lasers upgraded. We don't know what's waiting for us on that moon but I want the best we can manage."

"Gotta impress the nice Lady, leave it to me boss."

* * *

Sumire sat at her control station and brought the Leopard out of the spaceport and setting course for the jump ship that would take them to Alloway. It was only when they were out of the atmosphere and well on their way did she allow her face to twist into an expression as if she just eat a rotten egg.

The horror stories she's heard about lostec hunters, either through the things they find or the subsequent response from ComStar when they found out, made her skin crawl at the prospect of seeing this job out. The sound of boots on a ladder broke her from that unpleasant train of thought.

"We'll be making good time I trust," Will called out as he hauled himself from the ladder well. Sitting on his usual spot in the bridge. Next to the pilot's chair she was sitting.

"We should catch the Alloway jump ship just before its jump."

"Excellent! The sooner we get there the better. Ladies don't like being kept waitin.'" Sumire rolled her eyes but laughed despite herself. Will nodded at her.

"You look like a gull just took a shit on you, it's 'bout the ship ain't it?" Sumire sank into her seat.

"It's _lostec_ Commander. You know that's bad news." She would continue if not her favorite mug filled to the brim with her lifeblood being thrusted in front of her.

"You don't need to remind me Sumire." Will grabbed his own cup. "But if we want to survive as a company. We _need_ to follow through on this. Even if we could keep the bills paid we wouldn't be able to keep our 'Mechs in top shape, eventually-" He paused taking a long drink. "-we'd be grounded down. That Flea job did a number on us, we're low on ammo, heatsinks and jump jets are just failing from overuse." He finished his drink, letting his words sink in as he poured another before continuing. "Sides,"

"Sides what?" He gave her a grin though the glint in his eye told her it was born from madness.

"You know Lady Centrella had me at pirate moon." Will waved his towards the star map of the Frontier, planets crossed off in red. "Been over a year since we had a good pirate extermination contract."

"You mean since _you_ had one."

"I won't deny it, but given my background can you blame me? My family is called the Pirate Jaegers for a reason. Granddad's last official deployment was the Fjaldr campaign, he even petitioned Lord Arano to bankroll it."

"That doesn't explain your issue Commander." Sumire saw his eyes glaze over for a second while he drained his cup.

"You don't know much about my days as a freelancer do you?" He asked, pouring another cup.

"Only that you used to be called the Pirate Slayer." Will nodded.

"When I hunted down the bastard that betrayed us I learned that a clan of pirates had a vested interest in seeing my grandfather dead. Too some work to get the name out but I knew who to go after." Another drink. "At some point, I must've made a name for myself, I became the go-to freelancer for all your pirate killing needs." He laughed into his cup.

And still so young. Sumire thought. Part of the reason why she voted no on making him Markarm's replacement, he didn't need to be tied down to a no-name merc company one bad job away from bankruptcy. But majority ruled and here he was trying to keep them together, anyone less would've failed long before now. She felt him bump her shoulder.

"Relax Sumire, I'm not as single-minded as I use to be. We go in, kill some pirates, and get that ship flying and then on we're free to go where ever we want. We'll find a nice rich planet and blow a few paychecks. I don't know about you but I could go for some real fast food instead of these Frontier knock off chains." He waved his cup over the stars on the other side of the thick glass of the bridge. "All _that_ will be our oyster soon enough." Youthful excitement was apparent in his voice. Sumire couldn't help but laugh. She preferred him like this, as compared to the sullen husk they hauled out of that pod three years ago. A nineteen-year-old had no business having a scowl like his.

"I'm sure you'll find us a big pearl Commander."

* * *

A pirate point. She should've known. Sumire groaned as she pulled herself up to a sitting position on the floor, felt like she landed on her datapad.

"Everyone alright?" She asked.

"If anyone finds my stomach lemme know would ya?" Yang's nauseated voice came out as he hauled himself back on top of his favorite crate.

"Probably next to mine." Darius chimed in taking his seat on the table next to the holo display. Sumire looked around. Someone was missing.

"Where's the Commander?" She felt something move under her.

"Get off Sumire." Will's muffled voice replied, she was sitting on his face. She yelped as she jumped up, helping her half suffocated Commander up.

"Well at least someone had a fun time." Yang's laughed only to yelp as he ducked under a metal coffee mug thrown by a mortified Sumire.

Will propped himself up on the front console, as nice as the position was, there was work to be done.

"What's the AO lookin' like Darius?" Darius activated the display, showing an overhead image of the Argo and surrounding structures. Will couldn't help but grin, it was a full base.

"The Argo's crash site is here, smack dab in the middle of a pirate stronghold. The ship, the base, and the surrounding area all belong to the self-styled pirate queen called Grim Sybil. Her gang is the closest thing that Axylus has to a ruling council."

"'Grim Sybil'?" Yang shook his head, someone was trying too hard. "What do their defenses look like?"

"Patchy at best. Only standout is a strong AAA battery and light BattleMech activity."

"Define 'light' for me please," Will said.

"Can't put an exact number on it based on surface scans but I'd expect a full lance. Likely in poor repair, though there's evidence of something bigger. That'd be Sybil's mech without a doubt."

"And what of Sybil? 'Till today I haven't heard of her."

"Neither have I boss. According to Lady Centrella's intel Sybil mostly stays put here, but she has over a dozen gangs under her banner so she must have something going for her." Darius browsed the data pad in his hand. "Her bio's pretty sparse, very little meat to it. Only real note is that she came up under Lady Paula Trevaline of-" "Lady Death!" Will practically spat the name. An underling of the pirate queen of the Tortuga Dominions, here? Oh, he was gonna enjoy scraping that Sybil bitch.

"Lady Death? _Really_? Man these pirate names are killing me." Yang gave a bemused laugh.

"Are 'MechWarrior callsigns any better Yang?"

"Lemme think on that one boss, 'Bullseye'...No, no I guess they're not." Sumire rolled her eyes.

"Very clever wiseass. Darius, anything actually useful in that bio or can we get back to business?"

"Only that Sybil and Lady Death had a falling out, so you could accurately say that she's hiding out here, more or less."

"Ok, so they have some the usual ground stuff, what's gonna hang us up?" Will asked.

"There are radar guided AA guns all around the crash site. Your first task is to knock them out so Sumire can approach the Argo and drop off the engineering team."

"And they'll somehow pull a miracle and get a two hundred-year-old wreck flying again. "Yang muttered under his breath.

"Lady Centrella has bet a big stack of C-bills that Dr. Murad can do it. I did some digging on her. And seeing her track record I believe she has a shot at doing this, for what it's worth." Will pushed himself off the console and stood in front of the ladder well.

"I'll believe it when I see it, either way, we have a job to do." Will jumped down onto the gantry, Yang climbing down after him.

"Good hunting Commander. It's on you now."

* * *

Sumire undocked from Centrella's jump ship. It would be the second drop of the op, Will's lance was deployed and currently fighting their way through the pirate's defenses and knock out the AA guns that would keep her from landing on top the Argo's crash site. In the drop bay now instead of a lance of 'Mechs were the engineering team and their assigned Magistry Marine bodyguards. Sumire could swear that she felt a crick in her neck.

"AA guns down Darius. Engaging pirate lance. Get down here before those guns get back up!"

"On our way Commander." Darius nodded to Sumire. "Showtime Meyer." She couldn't help but grin.

"Coming in hot Commander!"

* * *

Dekker heard the Leopard roar over him as he slid down a lunar mountain in between a pair of pirate driven Locusts. Flipping the Jenners "arms" around he fired the lasers into the back of the Locust behind him while firing his missile rack into the one in front. The 'Mechs were in such poor condition they were being taken down in one or two solid hits, though, eight SRMs to the face isn't something a twenty-ton light mech can shrug off even at the best of times.

He was loving the Jenner. Sure it was a little bit slower and couldn't jump as far as the Spider, but the increase in firepower and armor more than made up for it, no longer would he shit himself when the wind blew too hard. Didn't matter if the Jenner looked like a giant walking dong, it was his dong now and everyone would fear Dekker's new dong.

"Dekker whaddya think you're doing?! Get back in the fight!" Will's voice roared into his earpiece. Oh right. There was a job to do. "On it Commander!"

* * *

Behemoth twisted the ShadowHawk's torso so it'd take the brunt of the pirate Commandos Alpha strike. It was at the edge of the SRMs' range so most flew off course but better safe than sorry. Three missiles slammed into the upper arm as she closed the distance and swung at the light, decapitating it as her fist sent the head assembly flying off. Piece of junk!

Dekker's Jenner sprinted past her and did a bounding leap, coming down hard on a pirate tank; using it as a stepping stone as he fired his jets to get his 'Mech onto a squat building that characterized the stronghold's center.

"Having fun Dekker?" She called out. "How she handle?"

"Like a dream!"

"Cut the chatter! We got company!"

* * *

Grim Sybil's QuickDraw was flanked by her best two remaining 'Mechs and corresponding 'MechWarriors, a Jenner and Shadowhawk as they stepped out. She was furious. _No One_ comes into Grim Sybil's turf and wrecks her home. Commanding the Jenner to swing right and ShadowHawk left, She fired her jets to the top of the hill overlooking the heart of her stronghold. She almost cracked her teeth from gritting them too hard.

The Jenner, being piloted by a real bonehead, ran right into the kill zone the BlackJack and Vindicator had set up. A burst of AC fire tore a leg off, making the 'Mech tumble along the landscape, carried by its momentum. If the crash didn't kill the pilot the PPC blast to the dome did. Idiot, she thought, have to do everything around here. She fired her jets.

* * *

Behemoth sidestepped the pirate ShadowHawks _sixteen_ SRM barrage and maneuvered behind a building. The pirates ditched the AC and LRMs in favor for more boom, not that she blamed them; being a former pirate herself.

"Dekker get behind that bastard, I'll cover!"

"On it!"

Dekker's Jenner's jets came to life as it soared over the 'Mech's head. Stepping out of her cover, Behemoth starting pumping her AC and LRMs into her target. It jumped to the side and offered it's AC side to her. Great, a pirate that knows how to shield.

"GLITCH!" Bullseye's scream was heard over the comms. Behemoth gritted her teeth.

"Dekker go! I got this one!"

* * *

Glitch hooted as her PPC hit home. Sucker didn't even get a shot off.

"Alright!"

"Head on a swivel Glitch there's still more out there." Bullseye cautioned, jumping into a better overwatch position above her.

"You worry too much boss. I say bring them on!"

 **WARNING ENEMY DETECTED**

"Glitch look out!"

She threw her Vindicator to the side the second she heard the warning. A great crash came landed hard on the spot she had been standing not a split second ago. Too close for the LRMs and PPC she fired her lasers into the center mass. Unfortunately, unlike the ramshackle 'Mechs they've been fighting so far, this one had fresh armor and a lot of it.

* * *

Sybil crackled as the Vindicators backup lasers burned into her armor. That all it has? She raised her arms and pulled the trigger. Four green beams scattered across its body followed by twelve SRMs. It wasn't pinpoint damage but it still scared the pilot into making a desperate jump back while firing its PPC. Even on a cold planet that would go into the red, on a moon? Total shut down. The Vindicator when limp and hunched over as soon as it landed, it was glowing from the waste heat. Pressing her advantage she gunned her throttle and shouldered into the sitting duck. It went down with a crash into the lunar dust. The pilot had just reactivated the 'Mech what it was on its back, trying to brandish its PPC arm as Sybil pinned it down with her footpad. Chuckling she grabbed the offending arm and with a swift pull yanked it clean of its socket.

She was about to use said arm to bash the head in when a shower of AC fire peppered her side. She was about to turn to whatever had shot her when her 'Mech jerked forward after taking a salvo to the back. That damn Jenner, she thought. Cursing she flips her free arm to aim behind her and fired it's two lasers. The Jenner fired its jets sailing over her. Grunting she swung the other arm, throwing the severed PPC into the airborne Jenner knocking it off course and sending it crashing into one the small buildings at the edge of the battleground. That's that. She thought. Now, who's next? She turned to look up, A dark leaf green BlackJack standing on the outer wall. Hitting her enhanced zoom she saw the shark mouth grin in a lighter green. Though instead of two eyes it only had one on its right, and the eye was….a crosshair...Sybil didn't know whether to laugh or yell in anger, F %#ing Pirate Slayer Bullseye was on her front porch. She decided laughing was apt.

* * *

Will was seeing red. With a swift movement, his throttle hand reached to the center console. Atop it was a custom panel. Two covered toggle switches and a large red button in a sealed case. Flipping the switches the button's cover popped open. He didn't hesitate, slamming his fist down on it.

 **OVERRIDE ENGAGED.**

 **LIMITERS DISENGAGED.**

 **RAPID FIRE ACTIVATED.**

 **OVERCHARGING WEAPONS.**

He hopped to the side onto a rock face firing his weapons as gravity made him slide down the steep slope his AC's recoil pressing the back of his 'Mech against the rock. He was yelling, not that he knew as the cockpit's temperature became more like an oven as his overcharged lasers dumped more and more waste heat back into the mech. The only word on his mind, _kill._

* * *

Sybil yelled as she shielded her cockpit with her arms. The torrential pour of laser and AC fire shaving large chunks out of them. She cursed as she felt one of her 'Mech's arms go limp. Laser fire cut through the myomers. No matter, She juked ot the side breaking free of the hellstorm of fire and ripped the useless arm off. Pirate Slayer was bringing his torso about. His 'Mech was practically on fire at this point, his ACs, now glowing white hot, fell silent, his lasers finally forced to recharge, gave her an opening. Throwing her arm as hard as the actuators allowed it crashed across the 'Mech's cockpit knocking it flat on its back. His life was her's.

* * *

Behemoth's cockpit jolted violently as the SRMs hit her 'Mech. It would've been worse had her attack not connected, throwing the enemy's torso mounted launchers to the side. She threw another punch, carving a chunk out of its armor. She was the better brawler but the other guy wasn't terrible either. Even locked in mortal combat she couldn't help but steal glances at the fight with the QuickDraw. Dekker was out cold in the rubble. Glitch wasn't responding to comms though her mech was still active. Probably out as well. Bullseye was pouring more fire out of his BlackJack than she thought was possible, at that rate he was gonna fry himself. She needed to finish this soon and get her weight into that fight.

The pirate swung at her head. She ducked and jetted back just far enough to get her AC into the fight. She dumped the last of her ammo into its remaining arm the other being rendered useless earlier. She hooted, she could take him apart at her leisure now, if she hadn't forgotten the SRM's reloading time.

A full salvo slammed into her right side, warning lights flashing and klaxons blaring. She heard a crash as her arm hit the ground. Gritting her teeth she snatched up the severed arm and charged. Swinging the arm down hard onto the pirates head caving it in. Finally free of that annoyance she activated her jets and slammed full body into Grim Sybil.

* * *

 **WARNING DAMAGE CRITICAL.**

This wasn't happening. Will felt as if he was cooking alive, he was cooking alive. Even the coolant in his suit felt like boiling oil. The damage indicator was reading cherry red across the board. He couldn't breathe. His cockpit was cracked and he could hear a faint hiss of his atmosphere leaking out into the void. _Kill._ He shot a glance on his weapons board. All but one of his lasers were burned out from overuse and the one that remained wasn't even halfway through recharging. Damn it, this ain't happening! He forced his BlackJack onto its feet. Sybill was walking towards him. Melee it is then. He was about to charge when Behemoth's ShadowHawk rocketed in, tackling the QuickDraw hard. Her 'Mech was in rough shape, her entire right section was blown off and she was holding what he assumed was her 'Mech's severed arm. Sybil was able to throw Behemoth off only to catch a blow from the makeshift club across the head. Behemoth reversed her arm's motion for a backhanded blow only to have her other arm sized by the heavier 'Mech and Sybil put her foot to the ShadowHawks chest. The sickening roar of her arm being ripped off filled his external mics as Behemoth fell on her 'Mechs back. Sybil was brandishing her new club over her. _Kill_.

Throwing his BlackJack into a sprint he fired off his last remaining laser. The extended beam sliced off the worn out arm at its armpit just as it fizzled out for good. A shower of sparks hit the exposed parts of his face as he fired his jets, roaring, gaining momentum and slammed the "head" of his 'Mech square into Sybil's cockpit, then...Blackness.

* * *

Glitch's eyes fluttered as she came to and screamed. Everything hurt. Powering through, she forced her 'Mech to its legs. She glanced around the carnage around her. She saw Dekker's Jenner start to pick itself out of the crumbled building.

"Owww, anyone get the number of what hit me?"

"I think that was mine." Gods her everything hurt.

Behemoth kicked her legs.

"A little help here guys?" Glitched complied. Moving over to lift the ShadowHawk's torso up far enough to right itself.

"Thanks, where's Bullseye?" Behemoth asked. Groaning in pain herself. Man, they were in rough shape.

"He's over here!"

They found his BlackJack toppled over Sybil's QuickDraw. The QuickDraws head was caved in and Bullseye's was leaking atmosphere. Glitch gasped and grabbed the mech by its "arm" trying to drag him to the Argo.

"Help me out here!"

* * *

He was dead. William Tell "Bullseye" McLean going to die, his last act? Killing the pirate queen of Axylus, avenging his fallen comrades. There were worse ways to go he thought as he cradled Wilma's plushie to his chest. He was losing air now, his body screaming for oxygen. His eyes were drooping closed. Time to go to sleep one last time...

"..ill!" what? "Co..der!" Voices?

He cracked his eyes and was blinded by stark white. Ah! Turn down the lights someone!

He could see a faint outline of a head as his vision cleared. Kinda looked like Kamea. He really was dead. He tried reaching out for her but his arm refused to obey. If she's here maybe he'll get to see grandpa again, and Wilma...that'd be nice. His eyes cracked open more. He was starting to hear a beeping. Weird. He breathed deeply, tasting pure oxygen.

"Will! He's coming to!" That voice...Darius? Did the Leopard get shot down?

"Hey, hang in there boss." Yang…

"Remember the oyster dammit!" Sumire.

He was starting to get a clearer picture. Bright lights, looking to the side he saw an IV stand. He wasn't wearing his helmet or his cooling suit, he wasn't dead, just felt like it. He looked around. Sure enough, his crew was at his side but, plus one...His eyes shot open, he started to hyperventilate as he realized who was hovering above him.

"It's good to see you again, Bullseye." No mistaking now, Kamea Arano was staring him in the face.

 _Impossible..._


	4. Ghost of the past

**Gonna put a big ol warning here. It gets kinda dark. Like i dont know if i can get away with a T level. Warning has been given.**

* * *

 _Impossible…_

The heart rate monitor was starting to beep faster.

 _It can't be!_

He started to thrash. Ripping the IV line from his wrist.

 _She's supposed to be dead!_

He screamed.

* * *

There's a saying that goes, "In space, no one can hear you scream." Sumire begged to differ. They could probably hear her commander all the way to Terra itself.

"Hold him down!" Darius shouted. He and Yang rushed to Will's bedside to try and pin him down. "Get some tranqs in him now, he's gone into shock!"

Will's arm ripped loose of Darius' grip and swung wildly into Yangs face, knocking him back onto the next bed over with a yell.

"Hey some of us are tryin' to heal over here!" Glitch's voice rang out as the ships 'MechTech landed in her lap. Will was halfway through a swing at Darius when he felt a sharp stab of a needle in his shoulder. It was a weak but fast acting sedative. Sumire had taken Yang's place and jabed the needle into him. Will's eyes locked with her's, just for a second, before falling back onto the bed. He looked as if he seen a ghost. Not that he was wrong in that regard.

* * *

It was an hour before he roused again, though to Kamea's astonishment he just demanded he be taken to his spot on the bridge. An awkward silence fell on the occupants as the battered 'MechCommander conducted his usual tea ritual. It was only after his second cup before the weary expression he wore twisted into his family's trademark scowl and gave the term piercing gaze to a whole new level. Kamea knew he was checking every detail on her body, looking for any sign that she was a body double, she gulped.

"Darius." He started, started. Stirring a frankly alarming amount of sugar into his cup. "Open the line for Centrella."

"Right away Commander."

Anna Centrella's visage flickered into view next to Kamea, she had a knowing grin that only seem to get bigger as she saw Will's expression.

"Ah, Commander McLean. Excellent work, I trust you've figured out your real client? You two are well acquainted I'm sure." The young man in her view screen gave a visible huff as he downed the contents of his cup brought himself to his feet.

"And all the skulduggery, why?" Kamea was the one to speak up.

"I needed to be sure you were the 'MechWarrior I remembered before I reached out to you. And as I expected you're everything I remembered and more." Will's lips started to peel back into a sneer.

" _Three years_ ," his tone was accusatory. "You played dead for _three years!_ And all you have to say is that I'm 'everything you remember?!'" He brought his fist down on the console with a loud bang.

"I nearly got my lance killed, all our 'Mechs are walking slag heaps, and you're _congratulating_ me for it?!" He was shouting at this point. "Mastiff would have knocked my ass back to basic and never let me touch anything but an AgroMech and you know it!" Kamea flinched.

"Go easy on her Commander," Centrella intervened. Will whipped his glare from Kamea to the image, though this time the recipient wasn't fazed. "She's been in exile since Espinosa took the throne. It's rather difficult announcing you aren't dead contrary to propaganda broadcasts when you have legions of assassins pursuing you for months on end, isn't that right Kamea?" Kamea nodded lightly touching the scar across her left cheek.

"And you sent us after the Argo, why?" Alexander Madeira stepped forward this time.

"In part to test your abilities, as have the last few contracts you been on. We needed to ascertain that your performance on Coromodir wasn't a fluke.

"What do you mean 'last few contracts'?" Yang interjected, holding a rag to his bloodied nose. Alexander went on without a hitch.

"Since the Majesty Metals contract, you've been doing staged contracts for us." Will had forgotten how blunt the guy could be.

"That explains the Commando bein' so good." Will muttered, falling back into the Frontier drawl. He glanced at Kamea. "Guessin' this means you're fixin' to start a fight with the Directorate then?" Kamea nodded.

"My uncle has made of mess of things and I intend on fixing it."

"We have resources," Alexander said before Will could ask. "An army drawn from all across the Frontier, and the tacit support of the Magistry, that means money-a good deal of money."

"I wasn't aware the old government and the Magistrate were on such good terms."

"It wasn't, but the directorate has made things unstable in the area so Kamea returning to the throne is an asset worth paying for."

"The Periphery is a powderkeg Bullseye." Kamea started. "Tensions between the Concordant and Federated Suns are high and my uncle's military posturing could be see as a provocation by either side. If they were to start a major war the entire region would be dragged into it the Magistry included."

"So the Magistry removes the Directorate from the board using you and they let the tensions between the Taurians and Federates simmer down naturally, I'm reading this right Lady Arano?" Darius asked. Kamea nodded.

"Though this isn't just about defusing a tense situation, for me, it's very personal. Our people's very identity has been stripped from them, and I aim to remedy that." She locked eyes with Will who had cooled down to an impassive glare at worse. "House Espinosa is long due for a reckoning, and with your help, I will give them one."

Will sighed and looked around the bridge, at Markham's crew, _his_ crew now. "Emergency Vote." He called out, the others snapped at attention. "We join Lady Arano's cause, or do we tough it out on our own?" They looked at eachother. Yang clearly didn't want to be under a noble for the foreseeable future but nodded. Sumire sighed and looked sadly at her data pad, deleting her travel plans for a tropical world deep in Federated Sun borders and nodded. Darius, ever hungry for C-bills nodded straight away. It was decided. "Kamea Arano, the Marauders pledge themselves to your cause."

Will let a yelp as Kamea closed the distance to pick him up off his feet into a tight hug. She was prattling on how they'll do Mastiff proud but the mind numbing pain caused him to blank out until she pulled too tight and made his back pop only to have him let out another scream that could be heard in the depths of space.

"Commander!" "Sorry, sorry!" "Get a medic up here!"

* * *

Medusa was half through one of Yang's old tech magazines when he heard the med bay door slide open, revealing the Commander laden with an especially large order from the local fast food chain of the fried avian variety.

"Foods up guys."

"Finally." "No more of this med bay slop." "Ya got my drink, right boss?"

It was greasy, it could've been seasoned better, but after nearly getting splattered on a godforsaken moon: it was the best meal they had in a long time. The medic would chew them out for not eating their current ration later but they'll cross that bridge when it comes.

"So," Behemoth started, biting into a particularly tough thigh. "Any word on our next job boss?"

Will swallowed his mouthful of food, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "That's the million C-bill question right now. Our 'Mechs are out of commision till we can find new parts. The fastest repair after the Jenner would be Vindicator, and that's if we can get away with fitting a large laser instead of a PPC-" He looked at Glitch who had just started gagging. "-but we quickly decided that wasn't an option."

"So you're saying we're out of a job for the next good while?" Dekker asked as he ducked under Glitch's dislodged choking hazard.

Will took the chance to look over them, nothing was broken but they were heavily bruised. Dekker was the worse off, having an arm and leg in splints; somehow twisting his limbs when he took his fall. "More or less Dekker. Even if we could get the 'Mechs back to battle ready condition you three are stuck in bed." Wil said starting to wear a guilty expression only to have a food wrapper bounce off his head.

"Don't go wearing that face kid. It ain't your fault for what happened down there." Behemoth started in a huff. "We were expecting a run down 'Mech, not a fresh light hunter. We all got blindsided down there."

"If anything we're still alive 'cause of you," Dekker followed, Glitch nodding along with the sentiment.

Medusa had since kicked his chair back to continue reading. For someone with not even ten years experience in the cockpit, their young commander had done about as well as anyone would hope. The worst set back they had until now was semi major battle damage and bruises, the loan shark problem had been Darius and Markham's blunder to try and recover their losses from Fjaldr. He chuckled earning a look from his compatriots.

"What's so funny?"

"Just occurred to me. This ain't the first time we've been blindsided by pirates." Dekker gave an involuntary shudder.

"Don't remind me man. Things went to shit real quick back there."

"Was it really that bad?" Will asked leaning in. He never got the full story of what happened to the other pilots.

"Oh yeah," Glitched swallowed her food. "Back then we were the rookies, well...Dekker and Medusa were anyway. Me and Behemoth had been signed on for less than a few months. We even had a proper dropship back then, Union class." Will raised an eyebrow.

"What happened to it?" Medusa spoke up.

"Repo'd, Markham borrowed a lot of money. Fjaldr was supposed to be our way into a long term contract with the Aurigan Coalition but we ended up going from a small but reputable company with a proper set up to a tiny bunch of no namers who can't even arm a Leopard." He turned a page and quirked an eyebrow. Weaponizing CattleMasters? That'd never work.

Will started to scratch the back of his head. His predecessor sure did leave a right mess for him to pick up. He stood up.

"I'll be heading out. You guys focus on getting better for now."

Medusa waved him off, eyes never leaving the article. "Don't worry boss, I'll keep the three stooges here in check." A food wrapper bounced off his head with after an annoyed protest by his fellows.

* * *

With a few painful pops and a groan, Will settled into the chair of his quarters giving a weary glance at the screens of his work station. Projected expenses, timeline updates from the 'MechTechs and Medbay, and their current standing with notable employers from the Mercenary Review Board. The tech report was the most distressing, at their current capacity it'd take them a couple payment cycles just to jury rig repairs. They need a proper refit facility and proper replacement parts if they wanted to get the ShadowHawk and Vindicator battle ready in a reasonable amount of time. The Jenner had proven to be more resilient than a light as any right to claim to be so they'll have it and the Spider and Locust ready to go by the time they reach the next system though that'd still leave them with only two pilots. The BlackJack would be the next fastest repair but burning out all its energy couplings and warping the barrels of the ACs would keep it in the refit bay well into the next system jump at their current pace. Christ O'riley, what a mess.

Will took the moment to stretch his arms over his head, groaning as his back popped again. He should be in medbay but he'll be damn if he'll let severe seat belt bruises, minor whiplash, and nearly suffocating to death keep him down, there was a war on the horizon dammit! Credit he'd have to figure out how he was going to turn a Merc company with only a Leopard to its name into a proper fighting force. First, they have to get their 'Mechs back in working order and to do that without getting bitched out by his resident ex criminal pilots he needs to find their 'Mechs replacement parts, the question is where? He sunk back into the seat thanking his predecessor for splurging out on a luxury chair. He was halfway asleep when the center console gave a loud ping.

 **INCOMING HPG MESSAGE.**

Odd, it should have went through Darius first. No one has his personal address these days, well except "male enhancement" ads but everyone gets those. Sitting up he opened up his personal mailbox, it was a letter. It was brief, a request he come to bar on a planet in their current system, wearing his gear, signed by a LD…. _LD_. Will's hand flew to slam on the intercom to the bridge.

"Sumire! I'm sending coordinates for our next stop, full burn….Yes its urgent, just do it!"

* * *

Sumire can be a hell of a nag when she wanted to be. Will thought as his boots splashed in one of the many neon illuminated puddles lining the street. He shouldered pass a particularly rough looking man, earning a nasty curse thrown his way though they weren't backed up. The Serrek on his hip wasn't for show and face concealing helmets tend to mark out individuals that have absolutely no problem shooting someone in the street. Much less a wannabe tough guy in a back alley. It was only when he was in the light of a gaudy neon sign did he stop walking, a skull and crossbones with the words "Drunken Buccaneer" under it. Never was one for subtlety was she? He opened the door while sticking his left hand in the pocket of the leather jacket he was wearing over the cooling suit. Time to get this over with.

* * *

Paula Trevaline, Lady Death if you had respect, or Peanut if you had a deathwish, downed the final dregs of whisky from her bottle as she kicked up her feet on the large desk in front of her. An entire bottle and not even buzzed, being the daughter of a dead beat gunner turned barman had it drawbacks; namly a large alcohol tolerance. Oh well, the main event was still to come. She thought as she tossed the bottle up to catch it by the neck, repeating the process till she got a feel for the weight. She smirked at the sound of boots outside the door and cocked her arm.

It was only when the door opened fully when the bottle flew. Though her target had deftly sidestepped its path and it caught his escort square in the head, shattering and knocking him flat on his back unconscious. Darn, thought I had him this time. She thought. Her target, without missing a beat, stepped in front of the heavy wooden desk she had her feet on. He's grown since she last saw him, though still had that hardline frown under that bug like visor of his helmet, obvious cooling veins on his full body suit noticeable even with the beat up leather jacket covering up the bulk of it. His stance told her he was on the balls of his feet, one hand ever so slightly hovering over the piece on his thigh and the other deep in his jacket pocket.

The men at her sides leveled their shotguns at him, the one on her left barking. "Hands where we can see them creep." Pirate Slayer complied, pulling his hand out as a fist: a black wire trailing out of it. The man on her right sucked in a breath and muttered a curse. She couldn't help but laugh.

"Long way from Tortuga." Pirate Slayer said slowly, she could tell he was fighting off an urge to spit. He held his fist out. The bottom of the deadman switch sticking out. "Now why are we here, and more importantly; why haven't I killed you yet?" Her guards tensed.

Paula gave him a smirk and snap her fingers. The guard to her left put a rolled up poster into her expecting hand. With a swift movement, she whipped it out onto the desk revealing an advertisement for the local gladiator stable in its garish of black and red.

 **BATTLE ROYAL!**

 **BRAVE THE TRIALS OF HELL!**

 **TEN MILLION TO THE ONE TO SLAY THE DEMON KING!**

The bottom of Pirate Slayer's face grew red as his lips peeled back into a snarl.

"Absolutely not!" He yelled slamming his fist on the desk. The guards clicked off their safeties. Paula held up a hand.

"Ah, but you're missing the best part." She grinned. Pirate Slay had turned around and was making for the door. " The name Gobbo ring a bell?" He stopped.

"What?" His head turned ever so slightly.

"Gobbo, ya know, Scourge of Herotitus, Rapist of New Hathor. Rumor mill says you operated in his territory for a time." She clicked her tongue. "The one that kept getting away if the stories are true." Pirate Slayer's free hand was curled in a tight fist as he spun around.

" _Keep talking_."

Paula chuckled and fished out a small cigar from her jacket pocket, a guard obediently holding out a lit lighter for her. She took a short drag before continuing.

"Gobbo's gotten a bit big for his britches, started talking shit. So I wanted to remind him were he stands on the food chain. Problem is my representative got shanked in a whorehouse last week. And it's been hard finding a suitable replacement." She pointed the cigar at him. "That's where you come in. Since you took care of that cunt Sybil for me-thanks for that by the way, she was on my list-you deserved a little favor."

"Word travels fast." Pirate Slayer intoned. Paula chuckled.

"You know what they say, 'Information is Ammunition.' Well, I have a lot of ammunition, have to when you got on my level." Another drag. "'Sides. You have an excessive amount of down time these days." She blew a ring of smoke his way, which he swiped with a growl.

"So you want to show the Frontier pirate bands you have me at your beck and call?"

"Close," Paula mused, "I just want this upstart knocked down a peg or ten. Far as anyone who matters knows, you being here is a complete fluke."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch, well, none that don't come with your line of work anyway. You still have to win."

"How? You already know my 'Mech is out of action for the next month at least. What's in it for me for even listening to this and not just ending it here?!" Pirate Slayer yelled, brandishing his switch hand. Paula simply blew another ring in his face.

"Keep your panties on, I'm getting there." She tapped the poster. "Two things. The first is that you get to keep all the prize money. The second-" She snapped her fingers again. A rolled up document was placed in her hand."-A first priority session of the Cluff's Stand Refit yards. With this your mechs will be patched up good as new within the week you touch down. I'll even send word for you have access to the _special_ inventory of the supplier there." She took her feet off the desk and leaned forward, getting right in his face wearing a self satisfied smirk.

Pirate Slayer's lips pressed down into a hard line before he let out a growl and yanked his switch hand up, ripping the wire out of the switch. The two guards, in a panic, yelled and jumped away; their guns clattering on the floor. A loud slamming followed within the long second of them waiting for the _boom_.

* * *

When the _boom_ didn't come the braver but considerably dirtier mouthed of the two crawled over to peak his head over the top of the desk, finding his boss staring down the nutcase better known as the Pirate Slayer. Whose "switch" was slightly oozing out of his grip, a slight fragrance of flowers barely registering under his boss' putrid cigar. He let out a curse, he'd been faked out by _soap_!

"You cock sucking mother FU-Gack!-" Pirate Slayer's switch hand crashed into his face, shoving the offending bar of soap into his open mouth and then proceeded to grip the top of his head and slam his face onto the desk. Leaving him to slump down to the floor spitting out bits of cheap soap and grasping his now bloodied nose. Couldn't even be bothered to get the good stuff!

* * *

Of all the thoughts running around in his head, he didn't need the rantings of a pirate with a limited vocabulary distracting him.

"Your men need to learn to clean their mouths." Lady Death widened that infuriating smirk of hers.

"We're pirates, not poets." Death quipped, putting a finger under his chin, the sharp tip of the nail threatening to prick his skin. "I haven't heard a no. I take it you're in." It wasn't a question.

Will gritted his teeth, Death was locking eyes with him even under his visor. Every instinct told him to end her, her guards were on the floor, he could draw his gun and be done with it before whatever poison on her nails could do him in. He would've sold his _soul_ to be in this kind of situation when he was freelancing, he could've walked up to his ancestors and say he had the death of a pirate _lord_ to his name, and few pirates were bigger than Lady Death. Even Espinoza would honor that feat, the McLeans were the scourge of anyone who dared call themselves a pirate in these parts. He could see it now: locking eyes with his grandfather, awaiting his praise for a grand feat...only to get whapped in the thigh and rapped over the head with his grandfather's cane. Getting chewed out for dying in his prime and for what? Big as Lady Death is, her domain was still intact. She would be replaced by someone just as ruthless, just as cruel, and just as dangerous if not more. While he died without leaving an heir, leaving the family name to fade as nothing more than a semi-fond memory. Failing to avenge Mastiff, his legacy would fade away too. He'd fail to keep his pledge to see Kamea restored to the throne, going back on his word would get an extra hard beating. Not but not least, _**Victoria**_.

No, tempting as it was, he had more important things to do than blindly go for a kill. He needed funds, ten million was a lot. He needed his 'Mechs back up and running, a trip to refit yards that big would make short work of that. As much as it killed him, he had obligations, to his crew, to his lord, and to the people of the Aurigan Reach. In order to see them through, he had to live.

Lady Death's time would come. He'll see to it personally if he has to: but that time wasn't now. This was a contract negotiation; and the payout was too good to pass up, especially considering the target. _**Gobbo**_.

"Yeah," Will growled through his teeth. "I'm in."

* * *

It was within the hour that Will found himself at the Arena's 'Mech stable, Lady Death had dropped him off and proceeded to go get the "best seats of the house". In front of him was the imposing figure of an ENF-4R Enforcer, the yellow cockpit glass contrasting against the 'Mech's green paint job. He noticed that someone had taken the liberty to paint a mad grin of triangular teeth where the "mouth" would've been and a single X were an eye would be. He couldn't help but shake his head. A knock-off job. Made it look like a sharp-toothed goofy jester with a missing eye. Couldn't even bother to put on a proper retical. Oh well, it wasn't his 'Mech so he couldn't complain. He looked over its spec sheet.

The Enforcer looked fairly fresh and completely stock if he was reading the sheet right. A Federated AC/10 and large laser in the arms and a back up small laser in the torso. His teeth clicked in displeasure seeing the AC. Usually, a class ten would fire one large projectile as instead of firing multiple in a burst to achieve its rated damage. An AC/2's damage came from rapid and precise bursts into damaged or weak sections to get results as their low mass couldn't brute force through fresh armor in any acceptable time frame. AC/5s were the heavy chain guns to the AC/2s' machine guns, their rounds increased mass allowed it take significant chunks out of any 'Mech dumb enough try to weather its barrage. AC/10s was when the _cannon_ part of the name come into effect, delivering all its damage in one shot or a burst of two. Not to mention AC/20s.

Though that went out the window with Federated ACs. It achieves a class ten damage rating by firing a burst of ten shots. So instead of one big shot that could easily stagger an enemy 'Mech, he had to control a burst twice the length he was comfortable with in a 'Mech he had never piloted before. Mastiff had the foresight to let him get some practice in the Centurion and on paper, the Enforcer and Centurion were very similar 'Mech. Same tonnage, same speed, only difference was the Centurions Missiles and lack of jump jets. Except the Centurion had a standard single shot AC/10 and arguably more durable with its shield arm and while the Enforcer front loaded its armor like it was going out of style its arms were essentially shrouded barrels. Not only not providing much to block incoming fire with, but also doing so meant you were taking the risk of losing half of your meaningful firepower.

Will shook his head. His work was cut out for him. He mounted the stable's lift. Once situated in the Enforcer's seat his suspicions were confirmed. Dual sticks as oppose to the stick and throttle. In theory, it worked the same. Just that you had to juggle a couple more controls so that you didn't run full tilt when you meant to lower the left arm. He took a deep breath, thinking why he was here to begin with. _**Gobbo.**_ He felt colder now. He was getting back into the old mindset. He reached into the jacket's pocket and squeezed, feeling the small medallion dig into his hand through his gloves. He should've tried harder at New Hathor, he shouldn't have let Gobbo get away the first time. The 'Mech shook as it's platform moved for the arena's lift.

Will never learned Gobbo's real name: not that doing so would've made it easier to find him. Once an underling of the pirate boss that conducted the attack that robbed him of his family Gobbo was one of the few to survive the retaliatory raid Will, Mastiff, and the remnants of the McLean House Guard conducted on his former band. At the time not stomping him didn't seem like that big of a mistake, especially when a Grasshopper heavy 'Mech was threatening to overpower your beloved mentor. Turns out a Leopard full of half scraped 'Mechs and a handful of pirates would grow into a band able to successfully harass major trade hubs for years without being pin down and exterminated. Then New Hathor happened. Not six months since the lost of his family he ended up on Herotitus. He still had plenty of funds, more than plenty, but Will was taught to not live beyond what his cashflow allowed, and since it was a net zero at the time of landing he took contracts to deal with minor pirate activity plaguing the more isolated agricultural areas of the planet.

Will found himself culling small raiding bands. Stalking areas pirates were known to drop off their forces. At first, they were small and poorly armed, easily manageable with long range AC fire. Then came the Vacation Season. A time were the resort world would experience a massive spike of commerce as rich nobles came to indulge followed by the traders seeking to make bank on said nobles. The Pirates came in force but rather than raid the resort centers they targeted the agricultural centers. Ambushing food shipments and taking entire farming towns hostage, making millions from the planetary government who wouldn't risk the civil unrest and, more importantly, loss of business a lack of foodstuffs would cause. Though pirates, being prone to boredom when there isn't something to blow up, soon turn to attacking what were deemed "unprofitable" farming towns.

One such town was New Hathor. Located in the southern continent it lacked any tourist appeal outside of a particularly above average bakery. It's population was made up of almost entirely of descendants of the original colonists, being rather staid, they shunned the hedonism of the major cities and tourists traps and had become fairly isolated because of it. Often being the target of numerous small raids even before the sudden spike. As such Will had taken it upon himself to set up shop in the area. His interactions with them were strained at best at the start. No one wanted to believe the miserable looking sixteen year old was in fact their assigned garrison pilot. He had lost count the number of times the truant officer tried to drag him to the local school. Not that many wanted to get chatty to an outsider, much less one dressed in lostech gear and carried a plush toy on his person wherever he went.

Over time he grew to be more than tolerated at best. He wanted to say he made friends. Though it was nearly impossible to have a normal conversation with his peers. Always asked what it was like being in the cockpit. Their parents weren't much better, every look and word was colored with an oppressive amount of pity. The number of times he heard "Oh you poor boy." made him want to weld himself inside the BlackJack. Every wide eyed little girl reminded him too much of his sister for him to even be in the same room without risking breaking down in public. He paused to pull the medallion out, the silver's luster clearly visible in the dim cockpit. One side showed a cow with its calf. He turned over in his palm. The other had a personal message.

 _May fortune favor you Sir William._

It was in the second month he was given it. Pirate attacks were getting more frequent. Requiring him to venture out far from the town to assist other garrisons. Every time he came back he had developed a habit of visiting a small cafe near the towns only claim to fame. The owner, a pretty woman in her mid twenties, had been the only person Will could hold a semi normal conversation with. The pity was there the first few times, he'd speak tersely while drinking the overly sweet tea she served him. Then she started to shift the topics, things that wouldn't cause his voice to hitch thinking about them. About her hopes and dreams for the future of her shop, her friend's wedding plans, teasing him about his nervousness around town. In what felt like a lifetime he felt _mundane,_ he wasn't "The 'MechWarrior" he was just the guy who came to get his bloody twelve o'clock tea!

Eventually, they started calling him Sir William, it started as a joke among the more jovial of them; but by this point, his skill in a 'Mech was irrefutable such as they started to take him just a touch more seriously. The cafe owner would often tease him by curtsying when ever he came in with an over the top call of "Welcome sir knight!" It never failed to paint him red. The routine held until one day, while he was staying till closing time, she plopped a small box on his table.

"What's this?" He had asked. She gave him a hard to read smile.

"A little something to remember your time here."

His interest piqued he gingerly lifted the top, pulling out a silver medallion on a chain. This couldn't be cheap.

"I can't-" He had started only have her fingers on his lips.

"It's a good luck charm for us here," She said while pulling out a similar medallion from under her apron. "It'll safeguard you and its proof that you're welcomed here," She went to hold the hand he was holding the medallion in with hers. "So no matter how far you go or how long you're gone, you'll always be welcomed here." Unable to fully unpack the meaning behind those words he has simply nodded.

The cockpit jolted as the lift began its accent. It would be starting soon. Will rubbed the etching once more before slipping the medallion into a secure inner pocket of his cooling suit, making sure it wouldn't fall out. He breathed deeply trying to find his center. No luck, the trip down memory lane would have to be in full.

It was not but two weeks after getting his new good luck charm when it happened. The pirates, having their fill of C-bills, turned to start wreaking havoc before the planetary government started having ideas to make their next payment be in lead instead of gold. The PG had send a recall for all mercenary and freelance forces to concentrate in the equatorial regions. The plan, to group up and start edging out any band that had set up shop. It was simple enough, the outer camps were lightly defended, occasionally the token 'Mech. But when they reached the region that was suppose to have the strongest concentration of pirates they turned up with nothing but temporary earthworks. It looked like they cut and ran without much fight, or so his fellows in the ad hoc battalion had thought. Within the day isolated towns nearby began sending broadcasts requesting immediate assistance.

The Pirates had moved south. Pillaging whatever they came across. The PG forces had scattered across the southern continent, trying to head off the pirates and forced them to stand and fight, that was the hope but the reality was that turned things into a painful running battle. The ad hoc 'Mech battalion Will was assigned to had lost a third of their number by the end of it. The only positive result of it was capturing one of the pirate 'MechWarriors, who turned out to be very easy to get information out of.

"H-hey, listen man, I'll talk I'll talk!" The scrawny pirate had screeched as a large Lyrian held him by the ankle.

"Tell us where the rest of them are going! Or do I need to break this leg?"

"G-Gobbo's boys headed south-west, he's the one ya want. He fragged the Pirate Jaegers, it's not pretty when he rolls into town!"

Will was already halfway to his 'Mech before his lance mates noticed he was gone. South-west was New Hathor's direction, there were already infantry and armor there but none of the pirate's heaviest 'Mechs were seen in the last battle. His fears were confirmed when they arrived at New Hathor's outskirts. Most of it was either in flames or in ruins, burned out husks of PG tanks and corpses littered the place. Not again! He ignored his lances calls to wait and he barreled into streets. All the landmarks he knew were destroyed, the park, the school, the town hall….

The BlackJack came to a skidding halt in front of the narrow street the cafe was located. By some miracle the street was intact. Wasting little time in clambering out of his 'Mech and fast roping to the ground he made a dead sprint. Every door on the street looked like it had been kicked in. He could see the bodies on the floor as he dashed by, men had been shot or stabbed outright, women had their throats slit by the looks of it and he had yet to see one that didn't have ripped clothes. The implications made him start pleading to whatever deity that'd listen. He spotted the cafe, its front door kicked off its hinges. The inside told the same story as the street. Corpses of all ages littered the floor among the upturned tables. He made a beeline for the kitchen and tripped over a body. Fearing the worse he scrambled away. Only to find it to be a corpse of a man with a kitchen with a kitchen knife shoved into his neck to the handle. He wasn't civilian and his uniform didn't match any of the PG's forces. Despite himself, he laughed in relief, it was a pirate, just a pirate. Half delirious from relief, he turned his head and any chuckle died in his throat.

 _No._

The cafe owner's body laid next to him.

 _This is a nightmare!_

Her eyes black, throat slit open.

 _No no no no NO._

He scrambled up to hold her up.

 _Someone wake me up already this isn't funny!_

Her charm hung freely, her apron and day dress ripped open.

" **DAMMIT!** " He had yelled again and again, breaking down and sobbing into his helmet. He cried himself hoarse until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

 _ **Bastards!**_

Despite his grief, his hand flew to the Serrek began to whip at whoever had entered, it was only by the other man's reflexes that he wasn't shot in the head. Juking to the side and grabbing hold of Will's arm, twisting it in such a way it made him drop his gun against his will.

"She's gone lad!" It was the Lyrian, Will sagged and let out an anguished yell.

"Why her? Why any of this?!"

His lancemate swallowed hard.

"I don't know lad, but I think we can find out the _who_ exactly."

As fortune held. The PG forces that were there before them actually have back some of what they took. A pirate FireStarter that had been the victim of an inferno rocket attack induced ammo explosion being the main evidence. They just so happen to have captured a number of pirates, the one most in the know proved to require... _violent_ means of persuasion.

"I swear all I did was shoot some blokes I didn't touch no bird!" The pirate yelled before catching another punch to the face.

"Give. Me. NAMES." Will emphasized each word with a blow. The Pirate spat out a tooth before shouting.

"GOBBO! It was all Gobbo! It's that wanker's kink. There you have it now please for the love of god someone stop this loon!"

It took two of his lancemates to pull him off the pirate, they needed prisoners alive. It nearly busted his knuckles but Will had a name. One he had pursue across that region of the Frontier relentlessly. By the time he was seventeen people had started to refer him as Pirate Slayer instead of Bullseye. Less a young 'MechWarrior and more a human embodiment of hatred. There were no survivors when he was called in, even if his 'Mech was knocked out he would see to it that every pirate hung from a tree. An exceedingly few ever got to see him relax much less say that there was, indeed, a person under that helmet.

The cockpit jolted again as it reached the top of the shaft. The door slowly opening up. He took another breath. He felt cold. The sounds of the arena were filtering in, the crowd and beginning of a thrash song washing over him. This was it. He urged the Enforcer to take its first step.

 _You'll take it all Gobbo_

He was calm, there would be no heat of the moment this time.

 _My pain_

He reached forward to toggle off the safeties, the autocannon locking in its first shell.

 _My sorrow,_

The lasers hummed as they charged.

 _My hate,_

He popped his neck, blinking as his helmet feed appeared in his eyes.

 _And all of my_ _ **anger!**_

It was time.

* * *

 **Ok so I owe an apology. Over the Christmas break, I had ordered new computer parts, But my case's USB headers broke off in the socket of the old motherboard and i had to order a new one. And lemme tell ya getting a new case fast on a budget is painful. the Corsair 100r is not a pleasant case to work in. Sucker is cramped AF. And on top of that my windows installation got corrupted. While i was able to save some personally vital files I'm afraid that getting the saves to my current campaign i use as a reference was not one of them. Did you know its possible for a one skull panther to headshot all your mechs in the same mission? I had set it up to be on the harder side so could use my moment to moment play as inspiration but at one point I had to go fug it and cheat the files so i started with a jenner instead of that Piece of shit spider. I had forgotten how light the default armor is on the starting lance honestly I may have to go into the files to make it wher they have the free tonnage as if they had endosteel frames. I dont care the game is BS incarnate sometimes. Missing an 85% twice in a row my ass.**

 **Ok so my ranting aside. Hopfully you liked this. I was gonna write out the rest of it but this just felt like a stopping point. The flash backs were suppose to be short but they just took a feel of their own. Also I need to start Copy pasting in chunks. Doing it all at once seems to make a few words outright disapear.**


	5. A Demon's Reckoning

Whitney Upton, better known as Whisper these days, asked herself for the millionth time how she got herself in her current predicament. Stuck on a ratty rock filled with pirates, murderers, smugglers, and general ne'er-do-wells in an equally ratty bar aptly named "The Danger Zone" so called for the fact it was situated in the wall of the arena and was subject to collateral damage from stray shots through its measly two foot thick ferro-glass window giving the bar-goers a generous view of the carnage. And here she was surrounded by said undesirables, the loudest of them cheering for their leader, the so-called "Demon King of Herotitus" the star of the show tonight.

The young redhead rolled her eyes as the holo-screen above her seat at the bar showed a close up of said star's 'Mech. A modified DRG-1N Dragon. Its right arm having been replaced with large bore AutoCannon, its missiles striped out and its left arm sporting a wicked looking blade-like claw in place of its normal hand actuator. The 'Mech's torso painted to invoke the image of a demon of the Christian faith. Gotta hand it to the painter, she would be genuinely unnerved if she was staring that 'Mech down herself, though she'd like to think it was because of its oversized AC than the paint job. Dragons were fast for a heavy 'Mech, tough too if the armament was on the light side; witch the pilot had obviously remedied in favor for close in brawling.

The matches other fighters were being lifted up one by one. A mixture of lights and mediums, some of them horribly out of place for the knife fighting conditions of this particular arena. Only 'Mechs she could see that stood a chance was a couple Hunchbacks, a Centurion, and an Enforcer. The latter of which was lifted in last. Strangely it wasn't shifting its head around to scan the other 'Mechs, instead, staying still as if the pilot was focused on something in front of them, at the Dragon. It was an eye-catching 'Mech to be sure but any half competent MechWarrior knows to keep their eyes on their surroundings. During all this, the announcer was booming over the drone of the area.

" **Welcome to the main event folks! Tonight we'll be seeing the reigning champion defend his title in an all or nothing free for all! Do these up and comers have what it takes to knock the Demon King himself off his throne?!"**

The bar filled with jeers, spouting choice phrases at the challenges as if they could hear them. The Arena crowd mirroring their sentiments. Only falling silent when the announcer started again.

 **"Looks like the crowd is ready. Let's get ready** tooo **-wait who let you i-"** BLAM **"Jeeze who lets the boring ones have the mic?"**

Whisper couldn't help look at the bar's speaker as the new voice filtered through. The 'Mechs in the arena also looking up in confusion. The new voice cackling for a moment.

 **"As our previous host was saying, tonight's main event is a real treat! In one corner: standing at a measly 5'5" and couldn't possibly be compensating more if he tried, GOBBO! Here to defend his title and distract himself how small he really is for our exclusive viewing pleasure."**

The bar had fallen silent, Whisper noticed some of them looking at the Enforcer, some even beginning to sweat.

 **"In the other corners...well most of them are a bunch of nobodies that should've stayed in bed. But hey, at least they have spirit for all that'll do for them."**

The voice cackled as a Hunchback shook its fist in indignation at the jab, even having its hand actuator flip the bird in the announcer nest's general direction.

 **"Spirited indeed...But dear arena-goers; tonight, you are in for a treat. For we have a special guest. I'm sure most of you have heard of him- hit it boys."**

A spotlight landed on the Enforcer its yellow cockpit glass glinting in the light, Whisper could make out the poorly done shark mouth imitation. The opening beats of a popular thrash song began to play. Why did it seem familiar?

 **"After three years under the radar, it seems like taking down the 'Queen of Axylus' just wasn't enough for him to announce his big comeback."**

A patron had started dashing for the door. Only to be shot the second he crossed the threshold.

"Oi! No running! It can't be him! It's the wrong bloody 'Mech!" Yelled a particularly large patron holding the smoking gun. Whisper was tuning them out. She remembered something, but she was coming up blank. Had to be something she heard in a bar somewhere.

 **"You know him, you hate 'im, you can't help but look over your shoulder at the mention of 'im!"**

The music was picking up. The heavy beats growing in intensity as if in tune for the reveal. A green 'Mech with a shark mouth…

 **"Crawling out of the ass end of the Frontier. He's angry. He's out for blood. He's here to bury the hatchet (preferably in someone's back). Ladies and losers, I present to you: PIRATE SLAYER!"**

The arena's configured battleground rose from the center. Creating a variable maze of shipping containers and raised 'Mech-sized catwalks. The music blasting out in full volume. It finally clicked in Whisper's mind, she had heard of a freelancer referred by that name. A BlackJack pilot supposedly capable of laying waste to entire lances of 'Mechs single-handedly. Whose skills with an AC was only outdone by the carnage that follows his wake outdoing even the famous Pirate Jeagers when it comes to culling outlaws. Not stopping with just culling them, but annihilating any band of pirates to the last man with a way favorably comparable to the Bounty Hunter of legend. Some said he died three years ago, though a sudden drop of pirate activity in the Frontier gave little credence to that theory. Others said he moved on to the Innersphere proper. Again the drop of population in the Frontier gave little credence. The only common agreement was that the "Pirate Slayer" had dropped out of the forefront of anti-pirate operations leaving only fearful whispers even by those who benefited from his actions.

Whisper personally didn't believe half the things she heard, a BlackJack could barely walk without having its armor fall off let alone fight an entire lance of 'Mechs. This so-called "Pirate Slayer" had to be a front man for a vigilante group, an effective one given the results of their actions. She taped the bar for the barkeep to refill her drink. She'll see if the rumors are true, then she'll figure out how she was getting off this rock.

* * *

Will's sensors could only identify the Dragon's weapons for a second before the arena's jammers kicked in. Two lasers and an Autocannon, a big one at that, perfect for the conditions the steel jungle of the battleground provided. A Spider had kicked on its jumpjets the second the horn blared. Sailing high over the field only to explode as an AC/20 shell slammed into its torso. The crowd gave an empathic "OW!" as bits of the wreck fell back to earth.

 **"That's less than ten seconds Bob, pay up!"** Lady Death's voice thundered over the loudspeakers. Her lackey's disgruntled murmurs half registering in the mic.

Despite his focus, Will shook his head as he throttled the Enforcer into the steel jungle, the sound of battle filling the air as the other pilots started to clash. He had to take care to not lean against the walls of the containers, they were thick but they weren't bulletproof; not with the caliber they were firing. He ducked into a shadowed nook in the container walls when he heard quick footfalls around the corner. Counting down from five he leaped from his spot, sweeping his leg out to catch a sprinting FireStarter full in its leg. The leg buckled at the knee joint, sending the FireStarter careening headfirst into a ferro-concrete pillar. Will fired a burn of his large laser into the other leg's knee joint claiming his first "kill" of the match. This laser hasn't been tuned yet. He thought, making adjustments on the weapons panel. Too much heat for too little actual damage potential, they must've just installed it.

He slowly stalked down the corridor, ears tuned to any audible information his external mics could pick up. He stopped briefly as an autocannon round ripped through the walls in front of him, backing off as a Hunchback plowed a Panther through the wall. The launched light slammed into a container making a 'Mech shaped indention in it that was only deepened as the Hunchback began to pummel the hapless light the kill horn sounding by the third strike, not that the medium showed signs of stopping.

Knowing he may be saving a pirate he didn't quite fancy watching someone gets turned into tomato paste in front of him. Throwing the Enforcer into a full sprint he shouldered into the Hunchback's blind side, carrying it a fair way before the other 'Mech found a foothold that stopped him in his tracks and pivoted to strike him with its battle fist. Will snapped the Enforcer's right arm up to parry the blow up enough for him to safely duck under it. Pivoting on the 'Mech's foot to press it against the wall as the now disengaged Hunchback fired its main weapon at the air he had just been in the high explosive shell collapsing the container wall down the corridor.

Too close there.

Will pivoted again to avoid the other 'Mechs laser fire, melting neat lines into the wall. Exploiting the Hunchback's recycle time he closed the distance, jamming his laser arm into its cannon housing lighting a burn into its inner workings. As he'd hope a screeching sound came as the loading mechanisms locked up. He would've followed this with a hammer blow to the cockpit from his AC arm's cudgel-like cooling jacket but a fumbling of the controls sent him backpedaling instead of just pulling his laser arm back to its normal position as he planned.

 **"You know Pirate Slayer, its a shot before a match, not the whole bottle!"** Death's cackling voice intoned as he stumbled when he brought the 'Mech back into line and for a brief instant allowed himself to mutter a scathing remark and resisted the urge to take a pot shot at the announcer's booth.

You're here for Gobbo, not her.

The Hunchback charged at him, bowling its shoulder down, likely to use the same maneuver to pin him against the wall as it did with the Panther. With a small huff, Will urged the Enforcer to sprint forward and with a little extra bend to the stride made his 'Mech make a jet-assisted leap, using the Hunchback as a stepping stone as he effectively played a deadly game of leapfrog. The sudden application of fifty tons throwing the other 'Mech down to skid across the arena floor.

Wasting little time, Will hopped back slamming his 'Mech's feet onto one of the Hunchback's legs and firing a burn into the knee joint of the other. The Hunchback slamming its fist down in frustration as the kill horn sounded. Better luck next time. Will thought as he followed the sounds of AC fire further down the corridor.

 **"We're down to the top four people! Don't get left behind Pirate Slayer, the Demon King has four kills!"** Lady Death announced with another cackle. She was really enjoying herself up there.

A quick glance at his monitors told him the only damage so far was minor structural stain in his legs. He'd been lucky so far, and he's likely just spent all that luck. A deep breath and he felt himself grow cold as another horn blared. Three left. He fired his jets to jump up to a catwalk over him gaining an overhead view of the arena. The layout was mostly narrow corridors twisting around each other but branching off from four larger straight corridors that lead to a clearing, not unlike a town's central square. He could see smoke plumes throughout the maze, seems like this stadium favored coring out other 'Mech rather than force an ejection or technical knock out. His sights turned to the center where he spotted a cored out Hunchback laid on its side at the edge of the square. Its likely killer now in the process of ripping the Centurion's AC arm off.

Jumping again to a stack of containers overlooking the square he steadied to bring his AC to bear. Firing off a rapid burst of ten shots at the Dragon though only the first three rounds struck home, the rest scattered around as the Enforcer's arm refused to hold steady as he tried to compensate the recoil. The Dragon paused with the Centurion's head firmly in its grasp at it turned its ugly face to him. Brandishing its AC at him, Will readied the Enforcer to make a leap to either side for when it fired but rather than shoot at him it snapped its aim low at the base of the stack of containers he was standing on. Having the ground shot out from under him so suddenly that even his jump jets couldn't salvage the fall the Enforcer landed hard, entangled with bits of crumpled metal as Gobbo took his sweet time driving his 'Mech's claws into the struggling Centurion's head assembly its legs flailing a final time as the blades skewered its pilot.

 **"It'd down to two folks! Place your bets now. Who will succeed? The King? Or the Slayer?"**

Will cursed his tactical error as he brought the Enforcer back to its feet. He gave Gobbo too little credit there and it nearly cost him dearly. Gobbo had situated himself on the far side of the square, arm thrown out high and wide as a show to the crowd. They eat it up, cheering so loudly he almost had to turn his external mics off. Gobbo lowered his arm and jabbed a claw at him only to draw it back making a slicing gesture at his 'Mechs nonexistent neck. Will returned in kind. Pointing the AC and cocking it back in a facsimile of a shot going off, turned out to be a crowd pleaser. Any other time, any other place, any other lifetime; he'd probably be enjoying himself. But he wasn't, he had a family and town to avenge and by God, he was gonna make it painful for that sack of shit!

The image of the cafe flashed in his mind as he threw the Enforcer into a sprint, circling around the Dragon firing a burn of his laser into its armor only to stop and pivot in place firing his jets to avoid incoming AC shell. Gobbo made a beeline for him, using the Dragon's better speed to close the distance. Will juked another shot from the AC, pulsing his jets to the side avoid the worse of a wild swipe from the Dragon's claw, leaving the Enforcer with a set of deep gouges in its side. Pulsing his jets like he was currently doing wouldn't allow his mech to dissipate the waste heat from his laser instead opted to fire another burst from the AC. even at this range, half his shot were going wide. Dammit, how did the regular army control this thing? Will cursed to himself as he twisted out of the way of another shot the shell taking a small chunk of the shoulder armor with it. He was gonna get picked apart at this rate.

Gobbo was maneuvering rapidly, ensuring that Will stayed in his AC's optimum firing range, laying on the fire. Fortunately for Will, Directly mounting a gun to the torso too out any chance for stabilized firing on the move. Most of the big bore shells going wide or failing to make solid connections. With a pull of the trigger, the last shell went wide only scraping the Enforcers head and burying itself into the arena wall shattering a window in the process. His only range weapon now out of action, Gobbo charged, catching the other 'Mech mid landing with a shoulder bash sending it reeling back its feet carving a line in the floor as its momentum carried it.

That last one hurt, quite a bit if he was being honest with himself, Will groaned as he popped his neck. Despite everything, the Enforcer was still in good shape baring a chunk of armor taken off the surface. The image of his home in flames flashed in his head as he drew his panting mouth to a solid line. He was feeling the heat now, the laser wasn't an option if he couldn't guarantee a killing blow and the way the AC was treating him he'd only be able to inflict superficial damage to Gobbo...He had to go into melee. At the back of his mind, he promised himself he'd get Behemoth to tutor him. He threw throttle to full, leading his charge with a barrage from his AC, three shots, and ducked under Gobbo's retaliatory swipe of his claw. Will threw a swipe of his own, his AC's cooling jacket jolting the Dragons side torso. Gobbo trie pivot around into a backhanded swing but was stopped in its tracks as Will pressed in his weight into his left while jamming his AC into the Dragon's side firing a full burst. It took getting into point-blank range to do it but all ten shots went home and tore a large chunk out of the Dragon.

Gobbo pushed Will off and started taking wild swings only succeeding in connecting with one across the Enforcer's head stunning Will long enough to raise his arm for a hammer blow witch Will had to block with both arms, forcing him to take a knee from the weight of it. Gobbo pressed his 'Mechs weight onto his attack, claw grasping to take hold of the Enforcer's head as he'd done with the Centurion. It was only when he heard the sound of laser melting armor did he reflexively twist away. Will could've laughed how Gobbo had turned away from a single small laser but he had a deadlock to get out of. Firing his jets he threw himself at the Dragon, locking his arms around its waist has his momentum carried them over, crashing hard and tumbling away from each other.

Groaning he tried to get the Enforcer to push itself up but only just caught himself as its left arm gave out. There went half his firepower. The 'Mech was unsteady on its feet, whether a by-product of the gyro getting damage or his own fatigue he didn't know, he glanced at where Gobbo had landed. Flat on his back and frantically trying to right itself he was a sitting duck. Will clicked his tongue and raised the AC and fired. A fusillade of explosive shells, all remaining six bursts peppered the downed Dragon, ripping off chunks of armor and sending sparks as a few struck the internals. Gobbo had just managed to prop himself up slightly as Will began to approach, AC arm held high with the intent of bludgeoning him to death. He could only do what he was truly best at doing, running away. Will had begun to bring his arm down at Gobbo's head when the top hatch blew clean off and the ejection pod sailed off at an angle… right into the now busted window of the Danger Zone bar. The Horned blared and the crowd cheered as Will was the last one left standing. Not that he cared, eyes locked on the landing zone of his prey. Death was yelling fake platitudes telling to raise his fist in victory. He just made the Enforcer shamble towards the window.

It's been six years coming.

* * *

Whisper had long since taken cover behind the bar when the stray shot slammed into the section of wall near the bar. Flying shards of glass had either maimed or killed most of those opting for the front row seats, more still when the pod came crashing in. She and the barkeep peek over the top. The hiss of the of the hatches opening filter over the moans of the dying and even over that high pitched groan of pain that made her ears feel like someone was poking a toothpick too far into them. The first thing to come out was a beat up neural helmet, tossed haphazardly out in wake of its owner crawling out of the pod.

The new announcer's jab at his height wasn't unfounded. The Demon King was indeed a man of short stature with black hair and a prominent nose with a general impish if raggy appearance. She ducked her head back under as Gobbo turned around, bracing against the pod.

"Wich of you lot are still alive?" He called out in a raspy voice. Only a few of the patrons found it in themselves to stand. Gobbo could only shake his head.

"That's all? That won't do… Oi, you!" He shouted catching sight of Whisper poking her head out again. In spite of his injuries, Gobbo was still spry enough to lunge over and grab a fistful of Whisper's hair.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He yanked up to get a better look of her. "Ah~ a pretty little redhead, Taurian by the looks of you. Got them strong gazes, like they're hot shit for not getting annexed by people with better things to do." He laughed as he dragged her over the bar screaming.

"Let go you little freak!" She yelled, Of all things they trained you for in military school they never worked on her pain tolerance and something told her this guy was very good at handing girls by the hair.

"Now now dairy cow, you're more useful in my possession as of now." He gave her a drawn-out sniff. "Sweat, military. Heh, may just keep you around for longer though. Breaking girls like you is always good fun."

Whisper pulled against his grip but as she suspected, he was well practiced at this. She should've stayed home. Before her mind conjured up whatever horrible things this little gremlin had in mind for her a second pod came crashing through the window. Flattening the surviving members of Gobbo's gang. The occupant of this pod proved to be more driven in exiting the escape device actually kicking the hatch off and picking himself out with a deliberate almost unnatural slowness.

His neural helmet didn't look like a neural helmet. It was far slimmer with a reflective visor that gave the head an almost insect-like appearance, a mantis, she thought. The helmet only showed his face from the tip of the nose down the oxygen mask missing. Instead of being in a tank top and shorts at most under an extremely bulky cooling vest like other MechWarriors he instead had a wore leather jacket over a full body suit. Didn't make sense as his 'Mech was venting heat during the match he should've been cooked wearing that outfit. It was only when she saw the dense ribbing of small tubes along his legs did it click. A cooling suit and his helmet. Star League. The guy was walking around in losttech. Despite the pain of her hair being pulled she couldn't but note that she expected someone more, imposing physically. The man before her was on the slim side and she could see a tuft of dark brown hair sticking from the back of his helmet. The guy needed a hair cut.

Said thoughts of him not being impressive were dashed when he turned his head just far enough to get what she assumed were both of his eyes on them. It was then when she felt a sudden chill down her spine making friends with the first one courtesy of the gremlin. She couldn't even see his eyes and she still felt them boring into her, through her, at the man she barely had an inch over in height. She could feel Gobbo quake in his boots. The sound of metal on plastic came as Gobbo's free hand drew his boot knife and pressed against her neck.

"Back off Slayer, another step and the bird's blood is on your hands," Gobbo warned, forcing his voice to sound calm and in control. Pirate Slayer took a step. The knife shook. "Think you're so tough? My Clan killed the Jeagers! We took down Hessian and left this sector of space with naught but a worthless welp to fill his boots!" Gobbo spat and pointed the knife at Slayer. "And I've been outfoxing you for the last six years, me! You're a shame on your family name. Killin' me won't change that. You'll still be waking up looking at a failure in the mirror. My only regret is not getting my hands on Hessian's whore daughter and granddaughter and giving them the best five minutes of their lives!" Gobbo shouted waving the knife about. Whisper suspected he snapped. She noticed Slayer looking at her and gave a small nod at the knife. Clarity dawned on her that Gobbo never bounded her relying more on pain and threat of death to keep her docile. Now that the knife was nowhere near her neck she had free reign. Following through knife to hand drill number three: Gain control of the weapon and use it against the wielder. She grabbed the outstretched knife and forced the arm holding it to stab it into his thigh. The effect was instantaneous. Gobbo let go of her hair with a screech and went to pull the knife out. Pirate Slayer smelling blood in the water stalked up to the wounded man and grabbed him roughly by the mouth. Ripping the knife out of Gobbo's thigh and threw it hard to the side embedding itself into a pirate's corpse.

Whisper crawled away to the relative safety of the corner of the room as Pirate Slayer pinned Gobbo to the ground and started laying in heavy hammer-like blows across his face. Slayer alternated between punching and slamming his prey's head again the hard wooden floor. This continued for what seemed like an eternity, Gobbo's face barely registering as human from the swelling, only stopping for Slayer to pull out a small silver medallion from an inner pocket. She could tell she and the cowering barkeep weren't even registering in his senses anymore.

"I know you know what this is." Slayer's voice was totally devoid of an accent. Hell, it didn't even sound like should be coming out of a human.

Gobbo gave a weak moan only to have Slayer slam him against the floor again.

"You. Know. What. These. Are." Still, Gobbo only gave a wordless cry.

"That's right, New Hathor. The town you destroyed. The people you took everything from. What about the woman who put up a fight? Remember her? Remember robbing her of everything she lived for?" Gobbo was slammed down again as Slayer stuffed the medallion back into his jacket.

"'Course you don't, they were just another among your sea of victims." Slayer reached over to snatch up a heavy looking table leg. And bringing it down on Gobbo's head. His voice still eerily level.

"You're right about me though. I'll wake up every day knowing I could've ended you right then and there all that time ago." WHACK "How easy it would've been to step on your worthless hide and had been done with it." WHACK "But guess what? I can live with that. You gave me purpose." WHACK "Gave me direction." WHACK "Killing you won't bring them back," He raised the leg up with both hands. "But killing you will spare others from ending up like them. Now. Rot. In. Hell." Slayer brought the leg down hard and kept bringing it down onto unrecognizable remains of Gobbo's head. Again, and again, and again until Whisper worked up the courage to approach and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"He's...dead now you know." Slayer was breathing deeply the front of his jacket covered in blood but he nodded his voice never betraying anything other than controlled anger.

"Yeah...he is now." He tossed his makeshift club aside and got to his feet. And set about retrieving a cleanish dish rag to try and wipe most of the blood off him as he went about picking the pockets of any corpse around him.

Whisper looked over the bar to find the barkeep in the fetal position shaking violently. He's probably seen his fair share of violence in this bar. But tonight probably topped his list of the most extreme. A heavy thud resounded beside her as Slayer slapped a large pile of paper C-Bills onto the bar.

"Hopefully this pays off their tab." The barkeep just whimpered, yeah he'll be like that for the rest of the day and tomorrow.

Whisper looked over to find Pirate Slayer had started to walk out.

"H-hey! Wait!" She called after him running to catch up.

"Just who the hell are you?!" Slayer gave her a small glace and lengthen his stride putting her behind him. Damn tall bastards!

"The announcer was very clear I believe." His voice was still calm but seemed to lose most of its edge from earlier.

"Like hell I'm taking that seriously. You're one of the Bounty Hunter's posses, aren't you?"

"They're little better than a pirate these days." He was gaining distance. She started to jog to keep abreast.

"A lone MechWarrior wiping out whole pirate clans? In a BlackJack no less? You're full of shit."

"I never claimed such abilities. I just help kill pirates." He looked at her. "Also the BlackJack is a fine 'Mech, maybe learn before subscribing to such baseless 'facts.'" Huh, so there was some humanity behind that helmet.

They were within reach of the elevator when popped out of a door in front of them. Slayer's hand hovered over his sidearm only for the newcomer to hold his hand up.

"No need for more violence Pirate Slayer," He pulled out two c-bill chits and a document sheath from his inner pockets. Holding them out for Slayer to snatch up.

"Whats the second chit for?"

"It was the consolation prize for the survivor with the most kills. There's typically only one left alive at the end of these games so the pool has been building up. It was meant for the former champion but well...you saw to that yourself." The man stepped aside and showed them the elevator.

"As exciting you were down there, it's likely best you never come here again. The clientele is in an uproar and we've had at least twenty shootings now. You're simply bad for business." Slayer gave a half amused grunt. Walking past him and calling the elevator. He and Whisper stepped on the second it opened.

"A bad day for pirates is a good day for me." Were his last words before the doors shut.

* * *

Whisper stood next to him as the awkward silence was only broken by a mediocre ambiance score playing form the speaker. She was trying to think of something to say but any words she formed died in her mouth. Man, this thing was slow.

"Good work back there." He said out of the blue.

"Huh?"

"With the knife, nicely executed. Seemed practiced. Military?"

"Y-yeah, Taurian Fifty-Third Line regiment. BattleMech element."

"See action?"

"Mostly minor raids and pirates."

"How long?"

"Three years. And before you ask, I wanted more action. Turns out its hard to get into a 'Mech as a freelancer even with the right training."

"You typically have to own the 'Mech already unless a company is going through meat fast enough to warrant a new hire getting in the cockpit."

"Speak from experience?"

"No, just something I've seen in my time out here." He tossed a chit to her. Her mouth dropped as she caught sight of the amount it held. Five-hundred grand?!

"Here, I don't need it. It should buy you passage long enough to find a company worth your time."

She was floored to say the least. Still don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Don't suppose you need a wingman?" Slayer gave a small shake of his head.

"You saw something you weren't supposed to see, it'll be better for both of us if we never saw each other again." Before she could reply the door opened and Slayer wasted no time taking long strides into the crowded streets.

"H-hey wait!" She ran after him but soon lost him. How does someone in losttech be that hard to pick out of a crowd? She sighed and kicked a can next to her foot. Only got a good look at the back of his jacket...now that she thought of it it had MARKHAM embossed on the back. She felt like she heard that name before too. She'd have to check with an MRB office in a major system. Well, she had the money go where she wanted at least, even if it was a hand out given by a violent killer.

* * *

Yang was waiting for him at the loading ramp. Suddenly a life for death battle with his most hated person seemed preferable to what was waiting for him. He was tired. Yang waved him over and looked him up and down.

"Don't suppose you went to a black metal concert and got sprayed with the fake blood?"

Will shook his head, prying off his helmet, the bags showing in his eyes.

"You look like shit."

"I feel like shit."

"You know what's wai-"

 **WILLIAM TELL MCLEAN GET YOUR ASS UP HERE RIGHT NOW!**

Yang winched as Sumire's voice roared over the intercoms. The other MechTechs making ribbing remarks.

"Ohhh Commander's BUSTED!"

One even making a whipping sound. Suddenly Will felt more irritated than tired. He sighed.

"Time to face the music."

"My thoughts and prayers boss."

* * *

Sumire's was tapping a dent into the floor by the time she saw Will's head pop up from the ladder well. Pulling himself up to the better light she got a good look at his face and her ire was almost forgotten right there, almost. He looked half dead, more than that; someone who had reached the end of the line. She'll deal with that later. Now she had to get some sense into his thick head.

"Where. Were. You?" She demanded. Closing the distance and jabbing him in the chest. Why was he covered in blood?!

Will looked her in the eye. His expression a mix of irritation and sleep deprivation.

"Personal business, Sumrie I know you have a speech for me but can we please save it? I need time alone." Come here covered in blood and tells her to save it?!

She was about to start a speel she saves for Darius only for him to cut her off.

"Could you please set course for the Cluff's Stand system? We have business there."

She jabbed him in the chest, who did he think he was?

"Oh for more 'Personal business'? Last time I punched in coordinates for you out of the blue you come back covered in blood. Like hell, I'm taking you to Cluff's Stand. You're explaining yourself right NOW!"

Darius superimposed himself between the two.

"Hey now, we're all friends here. I'm sure Will had a good reason, that said. Will I think you owe of an explanation just what you had to do down there in the first place."

In an unusual turn, Will's expression became angrier.

"I told you, personal business. Mine, not yours. Now to Cluff's Stand. Please."

"Not till you explain yourself, mister! You had us worried sick!" Sumire butted back in.

"Cluff's. Stand. Please. I'm asking nicely. I'll tell you when I'm ready but it's not going to be today and you keep pressing it, never." Will insisted. Voice becoming harder.

"Where do you get off?! You're not a freelancer anymore. You can't do this without letting us know. What if you died!?"

"Sumire, don't make me do this. Just punch it for Cluff's Stand and we can still hash this out later." By this point, Will was looking at her with a barely contained fury. Two can play that game. She jabbed him again, only to have her hand snatched up in a vise-grip making her yelp at the sudden pain.

"Navigation officer Meyer. As your commanding officer, I am giving you a direct order to set course for the Cluff's Stand system within the next ten minutes. Failure to comply will result in your immediate termination as part of this company's senior staff and you'll be seen off this ship at the next convenient stop. Continuing this disruption will result in time in the brig. Further offense, I'll throw you out the airlock myself." Will commanded, his voice suddenly devoid of any accent as he stared her down.

Sumire's voice died in her throat, he just pulled rank on her.

"Will lets not be hasty about this all we ask is-" Darius tried to intercede but was cut off with a sharp jab from Will, his face livid.

"'All you ask.' That's all you lot do, you just ask and ask and ask for the sake of your needs. Did I ever ask for anything? Anything in the last three years that wasn't a yes or no question or what was for dinner? NO! I didn't ask for anything from you." Will grabbed Darius by the collar, his voice brimming with unrestrained anger. This was worse than the salt fiasco.

"I didn't ask to be made commander. I didn't ask to be trapped in the ass end of space chasing after dogshit contract after dogshit contract while banks and loan sharks breathed down my neck for three years. Do you know what I was doing before what went down on Comodir? I was hunting a pirate. A very particular pirate. A pirate I had a vested interest seeing dead. The trail went cold yes. But I could move back then. When that travel ban hit us two years ago you know what I thought? 'I'm going to be stuck here with these idiots for the rest of my life!' The last three years stuck here and I knew that my prey was out there going around like he was some goddamn untouchable. That was killing me, Oliveira. The thought that someone else would get him, killed me inside. Three years he was running free. While I was wasting my life with a merc company that can't even screw in a damn lightbulb without someone to oversee the operation!"

Will was panting at this point if he didn't calm down he was gonna have a heart attack.

"So I don't owe you people shit. I gave you three years of my life trying to pull us out of the hole you dug for us while I had to live with that bastard running free. Let me remind you something. You're all replaceable. The ship is under the leader of the Mauraders. Me. I'm well in my right to can both of you right here, right now. I would be told it was a good call. I get it. I'm younger than all of you. You think I should answer to you in case my young bullheadedness gets me killed. But guess what? You made me commander. And this is me commanding now. And I'm not some young mascot to dance around contractors." He gave them a hard look before roughly shoving them back.

"Carry on with your duties. I'll count this as a first-time offense. But this is you're only warning." WIth a huff Will jumped down the ladder well.

"I'll be taking my food at my quarters. If I need something I'll call. Till then, I don't want to hear any footsteps outside my door." He voice echoed from below.

Sumire sank to her knees as they gave out. She should barely process what just happened only that her hand was punching in her ordered coordinates.

"Darius...what just happened?"

Darius fell back into his chair a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"I think Will finally cracked. Let's just play nice and let him cool off. Whatever went down in the city has him antsy." he looked at their accounts...Ten million?! When did they earn that? He sighed even when he hates them he still does his best.

Sumire felt her shoulders shake. Too young...He was too young for that DAMMIT!

* * *

Will threw Markham's old jacket into the room with a yell.

Stupid Stupid Stupid!

He just ruined any relationship he may have had with his crew now. He sank to his knees and gripped his head. Things were supposed to be better with Gobbo dead. Why did it feel worse?! Why?! F %*!

The next few days were spent mostly in his room, curled up with his plush in the chair. Since he effectively locked himself in there he tried to distract himself decorating. Mostly pictures from his childhood and early freelancer days. Not that it helped. The eyes were haunting him now. People he could've saved if he tried harder, been faster.

"This ain't healthy man" 'Bullseye' said from his side, his public face. Half smiles faker than a Solaris Dancer's tits and an equally fake scowl expected from his family.

"He already knows that." Private Slayer said from behind him. His private life. The face he can't show.

"He needs to get over himself! McLeans don't mope around!" William said from his other side. His youth, back when things were so simple and the answers were easy.

He looked at the plush the Atlas looking back.

"What would Wilma think of you now? Why don't you show her all you've done?" William demanded.

Because he was ashamed. Ashamed what he'd been driven to do. Wilma wanted to see a noble MechWarrior. Beating people to death with table legs wasn't noble. There was nothing noble about his motives regarding pirates. He was there to kill them. That's all.

He glanced up at the family photo on his desk. They weren't judging him. They should. They should be condemning him. He looked over. A photo in front of the cafe in New Hathor. Same thing. He left her to die. She should hate him. Why was she smiling?! He looked further over this time a photo taken decades ago. Mastiff and his grandfather. Story went they worked together during the last war. It was weird seeing a young Mastiff. Let alone one that didn't look like a grumpy dog most of the time. What would they think of the whole mess?

"Well lad, you just had to ask."

Will shook his head. He was hearing voices other than his own now. Next thing he'd know they'd convince him his gun was really a magic candy dispenser that made problems go away if he eats one. He needed to go to bed.

Another few days stewing in his room. Only this time, more voices.

"You can't block us out forever lad. Now act like a man and speak!" His grandfather demanded the photo waving his cane at him.

"You're a figment of my imagination grandpa. Get in your favorite chair and take a nap already."

"William Tell McLean you do not talk to your grandfather like that!" His mother admonished.

"...sorry ma."

"Say it right!"

"I'm sorry grandfather."

"Honestly where did you pick up that dreadful accent?"

By the end of the week, he could hardly hear himself think. How is a guy supposed to have a pity party if his mother keeps nagging him?

"No one blames you for what happened back then, lad! You did all you could." Wilhelm implored, the other occupants of the family photo nodding in agreement.

"That's a dirty lie and you know it, grandfather! I could've been faster!"

"Son, things go wrong, you know this. I know this. Everyone here knows this." His father admonished. Oh good, now he was getting in on the party.

"You can tell me I failed to my face. I'm a grown man now."

"And yet the so-called 'grown man' is sulking in his room like a spoiled child. I raised you better than that young man!" His mother scolded.

"I'm not saying you didn't have right to say those things pup. You got a dealt a bad hand. But take it to form me, nothing good comes from blowing up in the face of women that care about you. I learned that the hard way and Hessian still doesn't let me hear the end of it." the young Mastiff said as his grandfather's younger self jabbed him in the chest.

"And I never will! Took me months to arrange those dates and the mutt here blows it!" The younger Wilhelm barked.

"You tell 'im me!" The older Wilhelm yelled.

Will grabbed a pillow to scream into it. They wouldn't convince him to shoot himself, they'll drive him to it.

It finally came to a head when the plush started talking.

"Brother, why are you sad?" Wilma's voice came through the fabric. He could swear it was tilting its head with the question.

"Because big brother is a screwup and failure."

"Why? Did all you could. You stopped a lot of bad guys." Will wanted to shake his head but another voice froze him.

"She's right you know." _Her_ voice called.

No.

"You always stopped them eventually, it was never an 'if' but a 'when'"

No no no, he wasn't hearing this.

" and through all the trials. You never lost your way….well when you had a choice anyway"

"I left you to die." Will whimpered.

"You came running the second you saw we were in danger."

"I should've stayed."

"Then you would've lost more comrades. More than one owe you their life thanks to your skills."

"But the way you died…"

"Hm, ok I can not lie. I'd prefer to still be alive. But if you stayed you may have perished in the fighting. I do not think I could bear to live a life knowing our knight was no longer with us."

Will sighed and grew red despite himself. "Why do you say such things?" The Owner giggled.

"Because I get to see the man behind the helmet. One that needs to...how you say? Get his shit straight? Ah yes. Please do that sir knight."

"Oh Ho! William you certainly inherited the family charm!" NOT. HELPING. MOTHER.

" So what do you mean by never lost my way? Tell me that at least!" He demanded.

"Well, first of all, you never gave in. At you're age lad it's a miracle you aren't a jibbering mess...current state notwithstanding but this is soul searching." His grandfather announced with a wave of his cane.

"That the medical term?"

"It's the 'if you don't listen I'll shove my foot up your ass' term."

"Ok fair enough."

"Darling, despite your violent tendencies toward that horrid man you've always kept the real reason for your actions in your heart." His mother said.

"Such as? I wanted revenge plain and simple." Indignation filled Will's voice.

"What she means lad is that, at the very core, it wasn't revenge you were after. It was a desire to stop what happened to you from happening to others. The gremlin hurt you bad. Plain and simple. And he'd do that to others all the live long day if allowed, you couldn't let that happen, no matter what. Even if you had to get up close and personal. You didn't relish the killing, you simply employed the means you had to see the end of his deeds. The fact your such a mess right now is proof you didn't live just for the kill."

Ok this starting to hurt his head.

"Ok, then what am I then if you all have the answers?" He asked.

"Simple, you're William Tell McLean. The sum of your experiences and how you dealt with the trials you faced so far and will face. There's a little of me and the others thrown in there too. But no one dictates who you are, but you. You can be as fake as a whore's tits like that lad there."

"Hey!"

"Or as bloody miserable to Mr. permanent helmet hair behind you."

"I resent that remark."

"Or, you can grow up and be your own man now. That bastard isn't hanging over your head anymore. The pirate clans know we're back and they'll be jumping at the shadows now. You're young and have a capable crew. Sky's the limit lad. So again." Wilhelm's voice melded with others.

"Who are you?" the voices intoned

Will looked down to the plush toy. There was the million c-bill question. Was he Pirate Slayer? No that didn't fit anymore. The hatred was mostly gone, pirates were just pests until he found a really nasty one. He wasn't Bullseye, he wasn't trying to hide the violence in him anymore again the object of hate is gone. He wasn't his younger self anymore either. He died in the manor. No. William was still there he's just wised up to the workings of the innersphere.

"Who are you?"

He was William Tell McLean. Sole heir to the McLean legacy as pirate hunters.

"Who are you?"

He was Bullseye. MechWarrior sired by Raju 'Mastiff" Montgomery himself and heir to his legacy as a teacher It would fall on him to help train the next generation of MechWarriors one day. He got up from his seat. He needed to stand.

"Who are you?"

He was the Pirate Slayer. One of the few that struck fear into the hearts of the lawless. There was still need for that in these times.

"Who are you?"

He was Will "Bullseye" McLean, Commanding officers of the Markham Mauraders. And he'll drag this company to greatness even if they kicked and scream the whole way. He was feeling like a new man. He chuckled madly.

"Who are you?!"

Will sucked in a deep breath, all will know.

* * *

Darius was dozing at his station, thirteen hours of work straight, He had forgotten just how much Will did by himself. And he's still locked up in his room. He sighed and allowed his head to dip. A quick nap won't hurt.

 **I AM WILLIAM TELL MC-F#*IN'-LEAN!**

Well, that plan was out of the question now. Epically with the undignified shriek, he made as his commander seemingly lost it finally.

"Get the tranquilizers!" Footsteps came from the ladder well.

"Too late!" Sumire yelled taking cover.

"Heeeelllllooo my beautiful crew! Lovely day to spend with the best crew a chump like me can ask for! Will yelled as he popped out the ladder well, wasting no time scooping up both Darius and Sumire in a painfully tight hug cutting off their panicked yelling.

"Oh, gods! Too tight!" "Can't breathe sir!"

Taking the hint Will released them both only to take Sumire by the hand he had tried to crush a week ago rapidly going over it for signs of injury.

"You had this checked out right? Cold press then hot press? Can I get some coffee?"

Sumire prided herself in being very level headed. But at that moment it took all her will power not scream and pass out from shock. Ok, maybe not pass out at least.

* * *

Sumire's panicked scream was heard from the medbay and the general commotion that followed. Medusa didn't even bother to look up from his magazine.

"Uh, guys. I think the commander is crazy.." Glitch said looking up away from the wall mounted holo vid playing. Behemoth and Dekker just cast a glance at each other.

"Glitch, a mental breakdown doesn't make you crazy," Dekker said slowly.

"Oh, so it's like a period then?" Behemoth slapped her face. Honestly this woman sometimes…

* * *

Contrary to what they thought, Will's usual tea actually had a calming effect. Enough to rein in the mile a minute ball of positive energy that replaced their commanding officer. He was sighing contently into his sixth cup where we finally stopped jittering. Yang was rubbing his temple as he tried to digest his boss' explanation.

"So you had an epiphany while talking to your dead relatives?" Will nodded.

"Least that's how it went down in my head. The subconsciousness is a tricky beast. The end result now is that with this out of the way and my 'personal' hangups six feet under I actually feel better than I have been in years!" He started to laugh. And laugh, and laugh until Will reached a good impression fo a Saturday morning cartoon villain. Honestly making Darius and the others seriously considering unfit to lead before his laughing began to die down with a wheeze.

"Ho ho, man, six years without laugh like that makes the lungs hurt."

Before their commander could possibly this any more uncomfortable for them Sumire spoke up.

"So is there a reason you called up here other than telling us how great it is to be alive?" She wasn't complaining per se, in fact, it was nice to see him genuine, but this was too much in the other direction. Will snapped his finger and fished out the seated document from his pocket and tossed it to Yang.

"Damn straight. Read that and weep Yang!"

Yang adjusted his glasses as he skimmed over the leases. Only stopping to gape as the full meaning became clear.

"Full access of the refit yards? Anytime we come?" Will was wearing an all too pleased with himself grin as he nodded.

"Henceforth. I'm declaring Cluff's Stand our main stomping ground. We got the cash, and we'll have the shops to spend it on. I want a comprehensive list of anything we can replace on this thing 'Mech or not. This could be the life high I'm right now but its time for Mauraders to make their mark on the scene. Kamea's restoration is only the beginning. That sounds good to you guys?"

The other's took a moment to look at each other. Well, they did make him commander for a reason. Even if the said reason was that none them could pull it off themselves. They shrugged.

"You're the boss, boss."

* * *

 **Ok I think i'm definitely crossing the line here. Promise THis is the only case of this level from here on out.**

 **As always please leave a review, the feedback helps me tweak the story as needed and i like the conversation. C'mon people. reveiw a fic near you today!**


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